So its mother’s day! Yes a mother is a very important Person.
I have seen quite a number of posts on social media about how wonderful everyone’s mother is, I haven’t posted to that effect though.
My mother passed on almost 11plus years ago, leaving a very huge gap in the family but with a Gallant Soldier (my Dad) who with all brevity stood to take us on, running all roles mother would have run.
I will never forget though about the activities preceding my mother’s death.
On a dull Saturday Valentines day morning in 2004, my then aging Papa and I sat in the sitting room, almost hopeless, my dad was washing my bedridden mother’s clothes that I would later take to Mulago hospital where mom had been admitted and lay in coma.
A group of Christians from our church came in that morning to pray with us for mother’s quick recovery and this lady, in agreement with my dad revolved the prayer around Mother Mary the help of the Sick.
She sang a Song many Catholics would be conversant with, “Tukulamusiza Nyaffe owekisa” and there in is a part that goes like “Abanakuwadde wamu nabalwadde obajjukiranga nobakubagiza” Those words spoke to me. Yes the spoke to me! And During the prayer the leader invoked mother Mary to come and mother our family that was without a mother.
It had always been a habit at home that the radio nob got stuck in 103.7 Radio Maria the ‘Christian Voice in your home’, we time and again (even if some of us did not really care) treated our ears to numerous prayers casted by the waves of the Mother Mary station….the Rosaries…and my father continously reminded us of how the greatest mother let alone intercessor one could ever have is Mother Mary, the mother of Jesus so from that day on , we would take Mother Mary as mother while mom was away. I for one had known mother mary for a mother as a child but I never felt her closer to me before the way she was going to be this time round.
That same Valentines night, 2004, we were woken upto the bad news of mom’s passing. The news that tore our hearts apart and left even the strongest of us frail.
Papa, with a confused loom put his hands on his head and said “It was Saturday last week, today is also Saturday, Oh God!” Our brother had just passed on the previous Saturday and had been buried during the course of the week. In fact, my mother’s condition had worsened when she received the news of her son’s untimely death.
It was a moment of panic, like wax we melted, but had to look forward. I was only 15, young and Naive but had taken on mother’s roles at home of cooking for her grandchildren and Papa, I had kind of grown so good at it, but I missed mother because her food was incomparable, her tactics in making us happy were unmatched but now she was gone. Yes she was gone!
I asked God why, yet I couldn’t find a ready answer, I had last seen mom a few hours ago at her death bed and she could barely speak to me, my big sister had pulled me aside and hopelessly whispered “Mother is going to die” but I did not despair as a priest had just anointed her with oil in the sacrament of Life ‘anointing of the sick’ I was brave that she would see the new day alive and smiling.
I had witnessed tears rolling down mother’s cheek and I remembered her words someday as she nursed my dying cousin’s wife “when a mother sheds tears at such a point when she cannot speak, she is grieving for her children she is leaving behind”
It was that moment, I knew mother was grieving for us, yet I could not lose hope.
I was a liar. Mother was gone.
The unbearable pains continued with only one consolation though – we had been adopted by a new mother who had watched over us always even when mom was alive. Mother Mary was now the woman I had to tell all my secrets, the woman whose mantle I had to hide into when times get tough.
Papa always reassured me of mother Mary’s presence as as a mother. Everytime he visited me at school, he reminded me to always talk to my mother and at numerous visits left with me a Rosary.
The one time I can never forget is when I was going to sit for my Senior 4 exams, while parents showered their kids with success cards and so on, Papa gave me a Rosary and reminded me still to go with Mother Mary into the papers. I must have thought that guy was crazy then, but today that craziness is the reason for my success.
When I was going for my job interview, I told papa about it and he simply told me ‘go tell your mother about it’ I remembered and rushed out to Mother Mary’s Grotto at Church and placed all my papers at her feet and my prayer was “Papa has said I should come and tell you…..”
I got the highly competitive slot.
Mother Mary, I learnt was mummy and I had to run to her in whatever situation. Today I call her mother and tell to her whatever I would have told my biological mother. Yes I miss my mother but I have a Jesus’ Mother. Who wouldn’t be proud to be Jesus’ Sister?
Happy Mother’s Day.