Growing up I was tiny or petite
if you may call it. I did not at all think for a second I would grow up and
become a woman or a mother. My mother is in the nursing profession and I
remember how I would watch her every day during routine in the morning or at
night preparing to go to work. My mom was very particular in how she did
things, she still is, she would run the bath, wash her face with a face wash.
Let me tell you I grew up knowing that a woman has to do the three step routine
on her face from an early age, face wash, tone and moisturize It was part of
my upbringing. She would also put on a rich lipstick, nylon stockings and walk
to the kitchen to make strong coffee. She would sit and comb her permed hair,
put on her perfume and she would seal it with coming to my bedroom and using my
long mirror to take one final look at herself. The scent of her perfume would
fill the room and I would not be forced to wake up. I would wake up wave her
goodbye as she walks down the dusty road in her white nurse uniform. She took
pride in her routine. I would rush back to the house so that I can finish her
coffee; I just wanted some of that lipstick that would live a mark on the
coffee mug to rub off on my lips.
When she came home she would cook
up a storm, Sunday was even more special, she would cook a colorful meal while
listening to the mellow sounds of old school Rhythm and Blues, she had such
great taste in music, she would play the song Prayer by OJ’s while she cooks,
but she had a thing about dirty dishes and a clean kitchen, you had to wash
after her and mop every single time. It was not an easy thing to do my mom can
pile up dishes when she cooks and she never cooks less than three dishes per
meal. So there were always dishes to wash and the golden rule was that the
kitchen sink was to be empty at all times. When she says mop the floor she
meant spotless clean, I mean the woman had an eye for picking up missed spot.
My mom did everything with a passion, her garden was forever green, she
nurtured her flowers with so much love, and she loves flowers. Her vegetable
patch would flourish. Her work uniform was always white as snow with no crease.
I would admire her and just say I could never live up to that, no ways. I am
going to pass my high school and get out of there and gain my independence; I
will never wash a single dish in my life or tend to my garden.
My mom loved her home, she
injected love and passion everywhere in our home, her “off days” where spent
sweeping the yard, mowing the lawn, moving the furniture and cleaning the house
thoroughly and yes cooking up a storm and she would always serve her food in
her best china, there was no such thing as kitchenware for visitors in our
home. She would change the bed linen, my bed linen was always in a bright colors (pink or white) and if I cheated and not wash before going to bed, she could
easily spot it with my dusty foot prints and make me do my own laundry (I
despised doing household chores, I would hide behind my books, I was so
determined to be a professional and did not want to be domesticated).
Everything was always in order in our house, everything always had its place, and
before her routine starts she would make sure she freshens up and comb her
hair. Yes comb her before cleaning the house, the yard and watering the garden,
I am sure you are thinking, who does that? I used to ask myself the same thing
over and over till this day I still do.
As a young girl I never
appreciated it, I felt it was such torture. I am going to study my way of such
a life, I will have a helper, a gardener and I am determined to be a
professional woman, you will dare not see me slaving in the kitchen. I am not
going to be like my mom, I looked down on her way of life in a way. Today I am
a professional woman, a wife, a mother of two and yes I am also what can call
an independent woman. I have achieved more than she has achieved in many ways.
But it is what she wanted, for me to have a better life, to be strong willed,
to be passionate about all aspects of my life, and be it at work, school, and
home and as mother. She wanted me to be grounded, be a God fearing woman and
have the basics right. Our worlds are very different yet similar in many ways.
As I look myself in the mirror while applying toner in my eyes I cannot help
but to see her reflection in my eyes, and smile, I apply the moisture and
sunscreen with pride, and when my perfume fills the room, I am filled with
pride and gratitude. I am because she was, a single mother who despite life
challenges did her best with what she was given and gave us her best. She went
back to high school, got a Nursing Diploma and built her own house so that I
too can have a dream.
My little girl is 3 years old,
she is such a fun loving child who adores me, I have never seen such love and
admiration until I look into my own eyes and realize that it is the same look I
would give my mother when growing, I would try her shoes, her lipstick like my
daughter does. I would want to emulate everything she did. The truth is that
our kids learn better by watching us in action than us telling them what they
should do. As I mature and get wiser I am learning that my mom and I have more
things in common than I could have ever wish for. I might have full time
helper, but I am still hands on with the day to day running of the house, I
might have a gardener, but I still walk around in my water boots and with my
little hand fork looking for weeds. I actually call her for gardening advice. I
love good food, I can cook up a storm, and the difference is I will buy any
cooking gadget that will cut my time in the kitchen into half. I dress up and
adorn myself, maybe not as conservative as my mom, but I see her influence in
every area of my life and I must say I am very proud. I guess I am my mother’s
daughter. Happy mother’s day, I hope to
have the same influence on my kids one day.
