It can be hard to find the thinkers, designers and storytellers of what the future of humanitarian action looks like. In my experience these conversations happen across sectors and industries…
When do you really become a mother?
When you hold your child for the very first time they’re born or when you actually first come to know that there’s something growing inside you? I am not a mother, so I don’t know anything about this feeling yet, but I know one thing for sure. You can never stop being a mother once you become one.
It’s like something inside you changes forever. You never really live for yourself from that day onward. Your life is not yours alone. It is connected to another living, breathing soul forever till your last breath.
There’s also something very universal about all moms out there — they’re all selfless, so caring and always there for you, no matter where you are. That’s a mom for you.
My mom is also like that and more!
To be honest, I was never a mom’s girl. I was more of my daddy’s princess. My mom was the disciplinarian of our house, always correcting us, always scolding us and always trying to show us what’s right and what’s wrong. But she was also the rock of our house. She fought so many battles, and she still is fighting some, but through all of them she never lost the zest for life. She stood next to my dad, shoulder to shoulder, and showed us at a very young age that just because we are girls, we should never feel any less than a man.
She also showed us the importance of good education, and maybe the fact that she was a teacher and then a principal for the larger part of my growing up that I learnt from her the importance of putting education first. She used to talk about a time when both me and my sister were little and how dad didn’t want to pay for our expensive convent education. But she stood her ground and made sure that both me and my sister got to go to the best convent school and learn all the skills that she lacks. And so today when anyone praises me for my writing or oratory skills, I want to bow down in front of her and give all the credit to her. Had she given up in that moment to my dad, both me and my sister wouldn’t be what we are.
There are so many stories like this that I can write about her but what I want to write the most about is her ability to give. Throw the largest stone at her, and she would still smile and invite you over for maybe some tea. Tell her she can’t do something, and she will show you how it’s done with energy and fervor. Put a hurdle as big as a mountain, and she will climb through it inch by inch. She can do so much and never even ask for anything in return.
Maybe that is why I miss her so much. Now, when I no longer live with her, when I don’t see her around me all the time, when she is not there to care for me and love me. I miss her and crave for her. And I want to be like her. I think of all the things she would say or do, and I try to emulate every bit of her. I even get a sense of pride when anyone compliments me that I look like my mom. The older I get, the more I want to be her. I see her reflection in me when I look at my own.
So, thank you mom, for teaching me so many valuable life lessons. I hope to be half as good as you when I become a mother myself. And to you all who are reading this, go hug your mom if she is with you and if not then pick up that phone and have a long conversation with her.
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