This year’s Christmas celebrations and observations have been very interesting for me. Perhaps because for the first time I decided to go it alone without my family. I decided to stage my own Christmas celebration, at first I was anxious about my decision. I thought I was just setting myself up for disappointment and failure. I decided to change my mindset and create the experience I wanted and it worked. I had to think about the observations; the happenings; the Christmas things that I liked. Turns out that much of this is wrapped up in my memories of my mother and the traditions she built into Christmas.
Yesterday, I cooked a huge breakfast, a huge dinner and had mannish wata for lunch. I wasn’t at all hungry. I was full all day. Because cooking makes you full, but I was also full of love and good memories of my mother and the ways she made her children feel special and the ways she mothered her children.
At each moment of the day I chose my emotion. I chose joy instead of mourning, I chose laughter instead of tears, I chose happiness instead of sorrow. Even as I write this I am choosing hope and not despair. I was mothered well, I was raised by a wonderful, kind down to earth mother. I was grown up, like a strong, beautiful tree, I was watered with love, pruned with patience and careful attention saw me bloom and mature.
2017 was the last Christmas I spent with my mother. On Boxing Day she fell ill and I prayed for her recovery and she did recover. She spent almost two more months with us. Would I have wanted one more Christmas? Oh God yes! But I am so happy I got the time I did. So Christmas belongs to me and Mummy. It is a time that has so much meaning to so many people. For me, I remember every Christmas with my mother. Christmas is when I grieve, mourn, remember, celebrate, reminisce on the love that gave birth to me. My mother, Miss U.