A special Kaieteur News tribute to our mothers

May 12, 2013 News

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Remembering my mother

Today is a special day for many of us. It is the day we pay tribute to the woman who brought us into this world, who wiped our noses, who minded us when we got ill and who helped us to become the people we are.

My mother, Mavis Agatha Hoades, was a remarkable woman back then and she still is. To see her and to be with her would make you doubt that she is as old as she is. She walked more miles that people one-third her age.

I walked with her from Den Amstel to Vreed-en-Hoop on many occasions because we did not have the train fare and certainly, no money to pay the hire cars. When I wrote what was then Common Entrance way back in 1960, my mother walked with me to Vreed-en-Hoop, a distance of seven miles to the examination centre.

At moments like these I remember her although back then I thought of her as a tyrant. She is not difficult to maintain and I wish she could live out the rest of her years with me but she prefers to live with her daughters. Rather that feeling jealous, I love her even more.

As a parent I know what I put her through and while she might have disliked me for some brief moments I know that she still loves me. I would look at her today and we would talk about my growing up. She would look at me and at times I would get the impression that she is at times awed by her eldest child, me. But that feeling of awe disappears in a jiffy.

I am among the lucky few who at 64 years of age still have my mother. That is why today I am going to talk with her by phone regardless of the cost; I am going to love her more and I am going to apologise to her for all the wrongs I did her.

Today, nothing is too good for her.

(Editor-in-Chief, Adam Harris)

 

I believe I am my mother’s favourite child

Although my mother is almost at the biblical lifespan of three score and ten, I can hardly think about life without her. You see, my mother has also been my father for the past 29 years and her indomitable spirit has left a distinct mark on my life.

It’s hard to condense what my mother means to me in the little space I have.

Forget the nine months, the breast feeding, the cleaning of one’s mess, and all the other obvious things that mothers do; my mother sometimes thinks that this grown man is still her responsibility.

I guess you can say that that’s a mother’s love-but that’s my mother’s love.

There are four of us and while all mothers like to say they have no favourite, I like to think that I’m her favourite.

She never petted me though. The wooden broom, a cup of hot water and even wiri wiri pepper were my mother’s assistants whenever I stepped out of line, which me and my brother did a lot.

For me, every day is Mother’s Day; my colleagues at the work place could tell you that if I cannot see her whenever she is in Guyana, a day does not go by without me and my mother exchanging telephone calls.

We both suffer from high blood pressure and our conversation would normally go like this- “Dale, how’s the pressure?” “It’s okay mom.” “Did you take your tablets?” “Yes mommy, what about you?” “Boy, pain, my whole body in pain.” “Mom, you need to move around more.”-then it would be on to other things like my children and work.

How she loves what I do. I guess she’s one proud mother-she even bought me a “special” pen that really sets me apart from some of my colleagues.

I lost my father when I was 14 years old, at a time when I was preparing to write my O’Level examinations.

My mother, a normal hardworking public servant, ensured that she scraped the money to enable me (and later on my two sisters) to sit the examinations. Of course we did not disappoint.

Every day I thank God for my mother, having almost lost her on two occasions, one of which I can vividly recall.

It was almost 20 years ago. I was a working man and my mother was still washing my clothes.

One Saturday morning, I woke up and went downstairs where she was engaged with her weekly laundry. She said something to me and I realized that her speech was slurred. I immediately grabbed her away from the washing and maybe it was in the nick of time for there and then she collapsed–she had suffered a stroke for which she spent a few weeks recovering in hospital. That was the last time she did my laundry.

Thank God she has lived to this day. I have not always been a good son to her but she continues to be a great mother to me and even my children.

If you ask me what gift I am getting her today-that’s simple-my undying love- for there is nothing in this world that I can buy for my mom that would compensate for the mother she has been to me.

(Dale Andrews)

 

Nurtured by a superwoman

As a boy given to wild flights of fantasy, I often imagined her as being some sort of female super-hero with martial arts skills and a Buddhist monk’s serenity.  I even gave her a super-hero’s name.

I guess that is because, even then, I knew that she was special.

She’s the toughest person I know. She’s also the most gentle. She’s named after two queens. She’s my mom.

Mary Elizabeth Jordan knew what it was to grow up poor. As a child, she sold produce from her grandmother’s farm before heading to school. That discipline helped her to complete school and eventually graduate as a trained teacher.

An avid reader like my dad, she ensured that our house was always filled with books. Perhaps without knowing it, she has played no small part in my career as a writer. She bought my first Enid Blyton storybook and presented me at another birthday with my first book of ghost stories. Indeed, she may have inadvertently nurtured my love for stories of horror and mystery, since she once told me that she read several books by Edgar Allan Poe and other masters of horror while she was pregnant with me.

She’s worked hard throughout her life; getting up at five or earlier to prepare lunch for her large family before heading to school. That habit has followed her into retirement.

I remember the time she got up early to prepare dinner and confronted a would-be burglar in the kitchen. The thief bolted through the back door and ‘supermom’ bolted up the stairs leading to the top flat.

I remember her tolerating the boisterous boys who would converge under our bottom house to play table tennis from morning to sundown during the holidays and disturb her midday rest.

She has been there for me through my high and low points. She’s still there for me and that’s what makes her so special, and so unconditionally loved.

(Michael Jordan)

 

Blessed with two mothers

A mother’s love is unconditional and comforting. It keeps you strong and gives you hope in despair. Protecting you from the path of destruction and ensuring you succeed in all your endeavours are her primary goals.

I am blessed to have two mothers in my life. They have been extremely loving, compassionate, forgiving, warm and dependable.

My biological mother, Drupattee Singh, gave birth to me on August 9, 1988. She nurtured me from a baby to adulthood and rejoices in my successes.

I grew up in a nuclear family but my father’s demanding job kept him away from home most of the time, leaving my mother to keep the family together and be the primary disciplinarian.

God has blessed my mother with four daughters, who despite being rude sometimes, love her. Her strength, dedication, determination, faith in God, and sincerity to my father are attributes I try to emulate. My mother is a phenomenal woman indeed.

Another extraordinary woman in my life, who has shown me immense love, is my mother-in-law, Loreen Danny. On September 28, 1987, she gave birth to her second child, who many years after turned out to be my loving husband and father of my son.

Her values and strong belief in God are displayed daily in my home as my husband patterns his leadership role from those very attributes learned from childhood. My mother-in-law’s forgiving arms embrace her children and continue to guide them along the correct path.

Hers is the hand that is literally rocking my four-month-old son’s cradle. I know with her my baby will experience a mother’s love that is rich and pure.

On this Mother’s Day I say thank you to these two exceptional women. Now that I am a mother I think differently and understand many things I was ignorant to in the past.

(Keeran Danny)

 

God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers

One relationship which is always with us is the one we share with our mothers. They are our guiding force and are responsible for making us who we are. Mothers also shape our lives and our personalities and crediting them for the same is something one should do at every opportunity.

We might have our own individualistic approach in paying tribute to these amazing people in our lives, our mothers. My mother, Beverley Giles, can easily be described by myself and my sister Natasha as our ‘backbone’.

She has always been there for us, giving her utmost to ensure that we had everything we needed. From scolding us to nourishing us our mother has never turned her back on us.

On a daily basis I can look forward to no more than ten phone calls. She would call just to see if I’m in the office and how my day was going. To my sister, who now lives aboard, my mother would constantly message her via Blackberry messenger to see how she was keeping. My mother’s teachings have helped groom two wonderful young ladies who are both career driven.

For the last four years my mother has been the primary caregiver for my son while I work. She is doing such a great job with him.

(Latoya Giles)

 

Two mother-figures in my life

Being a proud mother of two, I’m deeply grateful having had two mother figures in my life as they have both contributed to the woman and mother I have become today. I was the second child for my biological mother, Jennifer Carter, with whom I spent my early childhood and was taught the basics I needed to know during that period of my life.

She instilled in me the importance of family and love. However, my mother wanted what was best for me and decided that the Island of Leguan was not the best place to raise her first daughter. In order to ensure I was given the best education and better opportunities I was soon introduced to a woman whom I call my other mother, Ms. Lynette Carter, a retired Senior Superintendent of Police. If I am to say there is one person who has molded me into a rounded individual, it would be this woman.

Over the years as her career took her to different locations in Guyana I was with her and never regretted as each location had its own memory and lesson. The most important were the life lessons she taught me. I admired her qualities of a being a good leader and being a strong, educated and independent woman.

However, as a teenager while I saw many of my school age friends enjoying activities which I couldn’t, I often questioned why I wasn’t allowed to. A few years later I saw some of those same friends ‘fall between the cracks’.

It soon began to dawn on me that while my mother was being ‘very strict’ with me her only intention was to see me be the best I could be. Some of her own colleagues often asked how I made out with her since as subordinate officers it was no easy task falling under her leadership.

Over the years I admired the level of respect she earned as a female in a career which was back then male-dominated. This woman defied all odds in her life and in doing so showed me that no challenge was impossible to overcome. Her principles which seemed unorthodox and harsh at times to me while growing up are the very ones that guide me in my journey as an independent woman, mother and wife today.

Having been blessed with two beautiful daughters of my own, I am more than equipped to be a mother to them as I was blessed with two mother figures who in their own unique way prepared me for my journey through motherhood.

(Jenelle Willabus)

 

 Because you love me I overcome

 Even though I have become a woman, I still long to become at least half the woman she is.  To most her name is Joycelyn Rockcliffe, but to me, her name is mom and my love for her can fill an abyss.

She brought forth two, if I must say, extraordinary human beings into this world and taught us to love by showing us how to.

Even though it is Mother’s Day, a day so designed to facilitate gleeful reminiscence, I will go ahead and say that it has been no walk in the park being trained by her and my dad- Eze Rockcliffe. Nevertheless,   I won’t trade either of them for the world.

A few months after I was born, mom got into an accident that left her hospitalized for 40 days, the same accident in which she lost her sister. And for the period of her ailment I was breastfed by a relative, Abigail Rockcliffe.

From what I was told, when mom came out of hospital, I didn’t know her, I cried anytime she came near me.  However, even though she was told by her doctor that she would never walk again, and was at the time bedridden, mom made it her duty to make me love her.

Daily she took me to lie beside her on her bed until I cried myself to sleep. Eventually we became friends, and we learned to walk together.

It is hard to incorporate all those precious memories, but one pivotal moment of my development I can’t leave out is the season when I became sure of my mother’s love.

It was one of those “phases” that children go through. I can vividly remember the expression on my mom’s face as she uttered some of the most painful words ever; but moments after, even with her boiling passion, she was working on a solution to the problem. At that instant, through her actions, she defined unconditional love.

Other situations after that simply served to remind me that I am absolutely lucky to be loved by her, and trust me, loving me is no easy task. But, for every moment that we spent at logger heads, there was a moment that we spent just enjoying each other’s love. I could not have picked a better mother if I had the chance to do it myself

She’s given me such security and no matter what mistakes I made she was always there for me. She cured my disappointments and healed my pain; she picked the best dad for me.

Mrs. Rockcliffe, you represent a breath of fresh air in my world and I am proud to call you mom; Happy Mother’s Day to you, Dawn Forde and all the other women who have made an impact in my life.

(Abena Rockcliffe)

 

 

Today we celebrate the superwomen in our lives

Today, Mother’s Day, is that day in the year that we take to honour the superwomen in our lives; “superwomen” because the title “mother” is no less than the description of a true superwoman.

And if we were to truly examine the things that our mothers take care of daily, we would most definitely find such a title fitting.

They are the people who would give up their dreams to stand back and watch you live yours. It is in their arms that you find all the comforts of the world. Their kisses give you the strength to face each day, despite the hardships that would come our way. Our mothers, even if we realize it or not, are our best friends; they’re always going to be there, no matter how much we fight and quarrel with them.

For me, that person is Nalini Singh, the only person in my life who would put up with my tantrums and still be there for me.

I don’t say it often, but mommy, I love you, and I am more than grateful to have you by my side. I wouldn’t like to imagine life without you there.

The other superwomen in my life include my grandmother, Zabeeda Ahamad, for whom I am also very much grateful, and some of my aunts.

I’d also like to take this opportunity to wish my cousin, and expectant mother, Nafiza Prashad all the very best on her first child.

To your mom, to mine, to every woman who has ever taken care of a child, Happy Mother’s Day, your kids love you!

(Rehana Ashley Ahamad)

 

 

To the world’s greatest mother: Prema Boodram

I want to thank you for your patience, your encouragement, your strength, your generosity and your unswerving love.
You may not be here with me but I want you to know that I love you with all my heart and I miss you a lot.

I love you mommy you are the best. Whatever I am today is because of you and I will always be grateful to you.

Happy Mother’s Day from Romila.

 

 To the one who bears the sweetest name

By Rehanna Ramsay

My mother is truly amazing; I believe that she is the epitome of God’s the tenderness and beauty.  The qualities that define the one who rocked my cradle are unparalleled to anyone else on earth.  There is uniqueness of warmth in the circle of her arms; in her eyes lie a guiding light of love unending, her ears have power to discern what others can’t perceive; she can tell the difference in the tone of your voice, and in her lips there uncanning wisdom, which flows in times of need.

As women have from the beginning of time, birthed and nurtured the generations of the world, so is the role of my mother an essential and oft times lonesome one, shaping the future of eight lives.

As I ponder for a moment, I ask myself where I would be, without that the gentle and generous bosom of the one I regard as one of life’s biggest advocates.

Nobody does it better. It is a blessing to have a mother. Who knows the excruciating pain of labour and delivery? The yelling, screaming, crying and cursing, the blood, the sweat, the terror. And that is ever so often, the easy part. Who can better tell than a woman who bears the sweetest name to eight daughters, my mother, Marilyn Edwards.

Being a mom is probably the toughest job in the world because once you take the job, you can’t take a day off. It’s a lifetime gig.

Teenage years are beyond challenging.  I personally think that all mothers of girls between the ages of 13 and 21 should be given a medal of valor; it’s only fair, because they don’t get paid for this job. I am venturing to guess that the pay level would be in the six figure range. Whatever it would be, it wouldn’t be enough.

I bring to mind; my childhood memories growing amongst seven sisters, my mother juggled her job as an educator with the upbringing of her children. She, however did not do this without the help of her mother, Gloria.  Together they worked tirelessly ensuring that we were educated and acquire the best of what life has to offer.

They have been our biggest fans, loudest cheerleaders, and life’s leaning poles. Everyone has a story to tell of their own, dear mother, so as we join in honouring the matriarch of families across the globe, reflect and celebrate the sacrifice of the women, who birthed you and taught you life’s lessons.

Mothers come in all sizes, in all colors and shapes. They’ll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you to show how much they care about you. The heart of a mother is what makes the world spin! Mothers do more than just give birth. They give compassion and ideals. They give moral support to their family and friends. Mothers have a lot to say and a lot to give. They bring joy and hope.

Let’s take our hats off to all the mothers for their unselfish and valuable contribution to our lives.

 

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