The dreaded Mother’s Day

There are very few days I dread in a year,

even that one week I’m on my period doesn’t match up to carry the tag “dread” “dreaded” “dreadful”

one of those few days just happens to be Mother’s day.

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”

The best, because what Joy it is when you dedicate your time and energy to honor and pamper and love the one who brought you to this earth. I mean let’s face it, just like Valentine’s day, they say you should show love all year round, but this is your mother, you are bound to fight endlessly and even more when you are her daughter. Something about women and hormones and that alpha female position we all want.

Then Mother’s day rolls around and it doesn’t matter whether you fought the previous night, this is her day and you will smile through it and make her feel like a goddess walking amongst all you common folk. It’s her day and she must feel special, you must make it special, she SHOULD feel special.

But walk with me to the worst of times,

to the times that your mother is no more. To the times that she is six feet under, desiccated and probably just bones for all you know. I mean it’s almost been three years now. To the times when “mother” has almost become synonymous to your first name.

When you take up the role and strap it on your back because it is now yours to fulfill. The role everyone is watching to see how well you do because it somehow amounts to how well your mother brought you up. The role they were almost sure you’d fail at because when she was here you never seemed to be interested in house chores or cooking which by some untold code makes you, defines you. Heck, she probably thought you’d fail at it because you were constantly at logger heads. The role that they may not notice, but one you have taken over.The motherly, unnoticed almost insignificant but very significant role you play in their lives.

When you make sure they are home safe, there is food in the fridge, their rooms are washed, their rooms are sprayed and rid of  mosquitos. When your first thought when you are paid is what you can get them just to remind them things are still normal, that they don’t lack. When you make it your mission to make sure you whip up some good meals every so often to remind them what food cooked with love tastes like. When you make sure that they are covered in the blood of  Jesus through out their days because just like their mother would, you are always on your knees each morning remembering them in prayer.

This perfectly sums up a mother’s role down to the letter.

When you take up the role, no questions asked. When it doesn’t matter if you are ready or not. It is yours to have and there is no saying no.

The balance between living your life as a young adult and still trying to be a young mother, a woman they can look up to. The thin line between being a sister and well, a mother.

Funny, just today I found myself in a row with my sister and I got really upset, she probably did too. See, she is at that stage when the hormones are raging and all they want is independence. I on the other hand, I’m at that stage where there is a fine line of black and white, no grey areas, no room for mistakes, miss me with your attitude and what not.


A stage where im balancing being an older sister who is allowed to get just as upset and sulk for days on end and that older sister-mother , who is meant to get hold of her ego and turn it a notch ALL the way down and be the bigger person.

It can be exhausting, it is exhaustig.  Shoes a little too big to fit and somehow I am meant to walk just fine in them.

I miss my mother and when mother’s day rolls around it only reminds me just exactly how much I miss her. She would have known how to handle a teenagers outbursts and raging hormones for equality and superiority and whatever else our minds make us believe the world owes us at this age. I mean she dealt with me, she would know. She would be there and so I wouldn’t have to deal with “Balancing”,she would, because it’s what they do best. It’s what they were made for, a steel to it of some kind that they posses, that they embody so gracefully.

Mother’s day is uncomfortable for me. Even more when it falls on a Sunday and they say,

“We never allow you to use your phone in church, but today, take it out and send your mother a text to tell her you love her.”

It is uncomfortable when everyone around you is texting and you’re looking at your finger nails wondering at what point the service will carry on as normal.

It is uncomfortable when new friends you make say ” I just wished my mum a happy Mother’s day, have you?”

and you begin battling in your head whether you should lie and said you did or tell them you didn’t, but that means you have to explain why and you are just not about that pity life so you ignore them all together.

Mother’s day is hard and uncomfortable for me but then my mother shows up and she says she hasn’t forgotten me. She shows up in form of friends who text to wish me a happy mothers day coupled with a sea of words just to tell me how great they think I am doing dealing with life in the now, life without her. She comes in the form of friends who stop by for tea and laughter just so that you are not alone. Just so they can tell you how much they love you. My mother shows up for me. But I dread mother’s day.


I dread the day I am so very kindly reminded that “sorry child, you ain’t got no mama.”

I dread this day so much that somehow this year there was block in my mind, a shutter of sorts that filtered out all the motherly love and motherly feelings around. A Shutter that completely sheltered my heart, that any mother’s day comments simply flew past me without full registration in my mind. A shutter that had me so oblivious of this day that I forgot to wish friends and family a Happy Mother’s day . A sort of defense mechanism that prevented the manifestations of my true feelings for this day until I sat down to start writing this post. A defense mechanism so good that tears did not well up in my eyes when real realization struck and I remembered that I had no mother to wish a happy mother’s day.

Mother’s are special and this post may not have taken an angle of complete appreciation for their role, but ask me and i’ll tell you just how special mothers are.

My mum and her God-daughter.

They really are special and that is why this Sunday evening at 8:40pm (You will probably read this tomorrow when I publish this blog, i.e today? wait, this is confusing,lol), I am wishing all mothers I know, all my aunts and cousins and friends who are mothers a HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY. Your roles in your children’s lives are significant and there will never be another like you for them. Their big sisters will never match up and their father’s may die trying. You are their anchor and protection, their friends and confidants, their worst enemy and best of friend at the same time. The one they go to when they do good and the one they inch closer to for consolation when they make mistakes. The one they will forever look up to and the one they will love even when they are mad at you. You are special and I hope you were reminded of as much today. May God bless you all.

Also a quick one, I am doing great as a mother-sister or maybe half as great. Everyone who was waiting for my failure is shocked at my prowess and have told me as much (comments which by the way I wasn’t so sure at how to react to so I smiled a confused smile back) *Voice in my head : What did they take me for?*  and I am not bragging but my mother did a pretty darn good job at being a mother. (Turns out I was paying attention to her lessons after all huh?)

I just logged onto Facebook and then logged out, too much FOMO with pictures of everyone and their mums (so sweet) but now I should probably end this blog post here before for you start to feel sorry for me and I start to feel uncomfortable and the shutter gives way and the tears start rolling. A domino effect.  


So HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY to all mums out there and to mine, rest in Eternal Peace. And to all motherless daughters sending all my love to you , you will be just fine. You might also want to check out the book “Motherless Daughters” by Hope Edelman…I hear It is  a good one and I cannot wait to get started on it.

Otherwise, have a splendid week Folks, Be GREAT!

Love and Love,











  • 3 years ago

    You’re so strong. I love your posts l.. Always my inspiration. Keep it up ❤

    • 3 years ago

      Awww thanks babe….and love yours, I get to see the other side 🙂 I shall 🙂 xx

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