My mother, my friend finally…

My mother who is now my best friend, used to be my “enemy”. How did I ever dislike this women that I now so desire to emulate? Was it raging teenage hormones, was it the cultural expectations that she had that made it hard to understand?  My mother has and will always be my biggest cheerleader and greatest critic. I have come to accept it and to love her for all she brings to me. Finally, I understand that I also bring life and new experiences to her. This is the relationship she envisioned and it is nice to realize that we are finally here.

My mother is the middle child of five children. She had four sisters and one brother. She can tell you of her childhood growing up in rural Haiti. She has an immense dislike for parted hairstyles (as her mother always did the same style for her), loved to ride horses to carry out her chores, and loves family and God. Her childhood was very different from mine. She did not worry of entrance exams and SATs. She worried about her family and continues to worry about her family. She told me when I was young, “no one will love you more than I will”. I thought it was so sad when she told me that or that her jealously side was coming out. Now, at my age, I realize a mothers love is unique. Sometimes you feel as though you are suffocating in this love, but other days when you are sick, cold, or unsure of life you want nothing more than your moms hug and love to be near you to reassure you, as always that she will be there and you will be okay.

Yesterday was mothers day in America. Haitian mothers are also fortunate as we celebrate Haitian mothers day at the end of the month. (Yep, double gifts!). We technically have two land marked days for mothers, but the more that I hang out with my mother I realize that it is always mothers day. She continues to provide me with experience on life, relationships, and my faith. Now, I can finally give to my mother as a woman and provide insight and my wisdom to her everyday life.  Maybe to her, I will always be the little girl that comes and combs her hair and watches her as she cooks and stays up late as we waited for my father to come home and bring her home her favorite ice cream, Butter Pecan (which I never liked). It made her happy to have those spoons of bliss and in that I was happy. To my best friend and the woman that I love and continue to aspire to be like, my mommy. I love you.


~ by travelling womanists on May 10, 2010.

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