Clearing The Cobwebs in the Brain

I have seen many blog challenges but none had all the elements for which I yearned so I have created my own 5 day blog challenge as a means to write more and also to clear the cobwebs from my brain. If you are a blogger feel free to use it as much as you like: my only request is that you refer to ExpatOnTheGo as the source for the challenge.

Day 1                My Mother

Day 2            A Man I Could Love

Day 3               Greatest Fear

Day 4               The Hardest Part About Being Married

 Day 5              I’m Not Sure


 The earliest memory I have of my mother is of her visiting me at my grandmother’s house and being upset that I had gotten burned on the back of my leg from the muffler on a Honda 50 motorbike. I am not sure of my age at the time but I must have been 3 years old or less. While that is my oldest memory of my mother, the most significant memory of her in my mind is that look of sadness and fear that controlled her face on the morning of my brain surgery.

It is weird that the strongest images in my head relating to my mother all show her with strong emotions whether laughing until she cried or being sad or angry. She is an extremely emotional being, not someone who cries a lot but someone who feels and is passionate about everything from mangoes to the stupidity of a new government policy or action in Jamaica. My mother won’t necessarily give you a hug and up until a few years ago she hardly ever said the words “I love you” but we always knew that no one else in the world could love us the way that she does. She protects us with a fierceness that is comparable only to wild animals in the jungle. She has lived and continues to live her life in way that encircles that of her children in a protective way.

Have I ever been angry at my mother? Yes, many a times because she has passed on that fierce, passionate gene to me and what it has created is a tug of war between two strong, opinionated women. There have been moments when her biting words and shuns have torn my heart to pieces and burned holes into my soul. From some of these moments I have cried out of anger, out of fear that our argument had finally brought us to a point of no return. To a point where our relationship would no longer be one where we stay up until wee hours of the morning chatting about God knows what. This, however, never happens and in the last few years we have not argued as much. I am not sure if she is mellowing or has finally realized that I am an adult and must be allowed to make my own decisions which will sometimes differ from her own thoughts.

 My mother is an amazing human being who has touched the life of many in her capacity as teacher, principal and most importantly as a human being. She has given to the less fortunate with no expectation of commendation or recognition. On the other hand she will snap at you like only a shark could and embarrass you like none other but underneath that tough exterior is a heart of gold. Her neighbours in her old community will tell you that she spared them many a trials and was always willing to help when no one else would. It has been suggested to her many a times that she should enter representational politics but she has always responded in the negative as she refuses to live a life in the public domain. How else can she feel free to say what comes to her mind when it comes and wherever it comes?

 If I know nothing else for sure I know without doubt that my mother loves me. She loves me unconditionally. She would give her life for me. She would commit endless acts for me with an expectation of nothing in return except for me to have a healthy and happy life. Thank you Floretta. I love you and am forever indebted to you.

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