Mind Boggling
By Njeri Mucheru-Oyatta
My mother is a passionate person. All her life since my dad left her, she survived without thinking about money. She survived on her passionate hope that one day her children would come back to her and know that she is their mother and that she loves them. To me, her survival is a miracle. If I went through what she experienced, I would probably have committed suicide.
I remember when I was very young and she would come to our house to see my second born brother and me while the eldest was in boarding school. She would try to talk to us and we would keep a distance from her not recognizing who she was and treating her like a stranger. This from children who she had carried in pregnancy for 9 months, given birth to, breastfed, changed their nappies and wiped their bums, bathed, weaned, potty trained, spent sleepless nights by their side when they were sick, had interrupted sleep for months on end, and a lot more of what mothers of babies and young children go through. My dad did not allow her to come and see us and eventually after she tried without success she decided to let go.
She once told me that her illness was God’s way of protecting her from the traumatic experience He knew He had in store for her when He decided not to let her raise us. So her illness to her was a blessing. She accepted it as the only means by which she could survive the hours, days, nights, weeks, months, years and decades that she would be kept away from her children for a reason she could not accept or understand. Unlike me, throughout her illness she believed in God and accepted that it was His will that we should be raised by someone else for a good reason unknown to her feeble human mind.
She loved my dad dearly and unforgiving, hardhearted me was surprised to see that she was heartbroken when she heard that he had died. It was as if, after more than two decades of being separated from him, she still hoped that he would one day come back. She continued to live in the same property that he left her in and even after she left hospital she insisted that she could only live where her husband left her. What was it about my dad that two unrelated women could love him so passionately that they are willing to sacrifice so much for him? Both of them gave selflessly to ensure his happiness.
If, God forbid, my husband was to get up today, pack up my children and drive off to live somewhere else away from me and not let me see them, even if some of those children are not mine, I would assemble the Kenyan army and attack him with all the ammunition available in their arsenal. If he took my children and went to live with another woman to raise them, the US army would not have enough ammunition to launch the attack I would have planned for him. I would kill him or myself before I think that “Good God Almighty has a good reason for not letting me raise my children”.
What I have learned from my mother’s acceptance of my dad’s decision to deny her access to us on the basis that it was God’s will is that love of a parent is not something children actually need. In fact, love in form of hugs and kisses and nicknames and occasional sweet treats and birthday parties and all that stuff is not something a child needs. The love that a child needs is love in form of food, shelter, clothing and an education. There are mothers and fathers who do not love their children and they show this by neglecting the children. Being a parent does not mean that you love your child. And love is not exclusive to parents and children. It exists in a variety of relationships.
My mother loved us because she realized that she could not provide us with what our dad was able to give us and her fighting my dad was not in our best interests. Until I came to this realization, I always thought that she did not love us otherwise she would have fought for us. In actual fact, it was because she loved us that she left us alone. She acted in our best interests.
We are disillusioned about love from our childhood thinking that love is a feeling. I have realized that in fact, love is not a feeling. Love is a state of mind. I can be annoyed with someone and still love them. I can be happy with someone and not love them. Love is what I think of someone not what I feel about that person. The fact that two people are attracted to each other does not mean that they love each other.
Love is a state of mind. When we are in a state of mind of loving someone, we act in their best interests even if our actions appear to hurt them. Discipline is a way of showing love to a child because without discipline, a child cannot thrive. Discipline cannot be administered painlessly. When you spare the rod, you are not showing love. It is when you use the rod that you are showing love.
My mother knew that we would be hurt by her actions and that is why she could only hope that we would grow up and come to a realization of why she did what she did and appreciate that she did it out of love for us and not to hurt us. It has not been easy to accept this approach towards her. It is much easier to allow the hurt to cover up the truth.
I know that I love my mother because I have acted in her best interests. I did not have any emotional bond with her, not having had a relationship with her for more than half my life, but I cared about her a lot and wanted so much to help her. Love is that state of mind that makes you want to act in someone’s best interests, disregarding your own if necessary. I can relate this state of mind to everyone whose best interests I have safeguarded and sacrificed my self interest for. I have done this for all the people I love.
Accepting my mother and her illness has not been easy for any of us. Ironically, it was my mum who taught me how to accept my mother. What I learned from my mum’s acceptance of my dad is that passion makes you see the true value of a person beyond their humanly appearance. I cannot explain how she could foresee at the time she met my dad that he was the man she would be happy with and that he would make her richer than she ever dreamed of. But I can explain how this revelation works in reference to my mother.
My mother’s humanly appearance is of a disease ridden, destitute, and needy person who any person in their right mind would be justified in running away from. But I don’t look at the person she is now when she is alive in this world, I look at the person she will be when she departs from this world and I am left standing at her grave side. At that time, all the disease, the destitution, the neediness will be gone and all that will remain is the woman through whom God chose to give me the life that I am living. A woman full of passion for life and love for her children.
By Njeri Mucheru-Oyatta
My mother is a passionate person. All her life since my dad left her, she survived without thinking about money. She survived on her passionate hope that one day her children would come back to her and know that she is their mother and that she loves them. To me, her survival is a miracle. If I went through what she experienced, I would probably have committed suicide.
I remember when I was very young and she would come to our house to see my second born brother and me while the eldest was in boarding school. She would try to talk to us and we would keep a distance from her not recognizing who she was and treating her like a stranger. This from children who she had carried in pregnancy for 9 months, given birth to, breastfed, changed their nappies and wiped their bums, bathed, weaned, potty trained, spent sleepless nights by their side when they were sick, had interrupted sleep for months on end, and a lot more of what mothers of babies and young children go through. My dad did not allow her to come and see us and eventually after she tried without success she decided to let go.
She once told me that her illness was God’s way of protecting her from the traumatic experience He knew He had in store for her when He decided not to let her raise us. So her illness to her was a blessing. She accepted it as the only means by which she could survive the hours, days, nights, weeks, months, years and decades that she would be kept away from her children for a reason she could not accept or understand. Unlike me, throughout her illness she believed in God and accepted that it was His will that we should be raised by someone else for a good reason unknown to her feeble human mind.
She loved my dad dearly and unforgiving, hardhearted me was surprised to see that she was heartbroken when she heard that he had died. It was as if, after more than two decades of being separated from him, she still hoped that he would one day come back. She continued to live in the same property that he left her in and even after she left hospital she insisted that she could only live where her husband left her. What was it about my dad that two unrelated women could love him so passionately that they are willing to sacrifice so much for him? Both of them gave selflessly to ensure his happiness.
If, God forbid, my husband was to get up today, pack up my children and drive off to live somewhere else away from me and not let me see them, even if some of those children are not mine, I would assemble the Kenyan army and attack him with all the ammunition available in their arsenal. If he took my children and went to live with another woman to raise them, the US army would not have enough ammunition to launch the attack I would have planned for him. I would kill him or myself before I think that “Good God Almighty has a good reason for not letting me raise my children”.
What I have learned from my mother’s acceptance of my dad’s decision to deny her access to us on the basis that it was God’s will is that love of a parent is not something children actually need. In fact, love in form of hugs and kisses and nicknames and occasional sweet treats and birthday parties and all that stuff is not something a child needs. The love that a child needs is love in form of food, shelter, clothing and an education. There are mothers and fathers who do not love their children and they show this by neglecting the children. Being a parent does not mean that you love your child. And love is not exclusive to parents and children. It exists in a variety of relationships.
My mother loved us because she realized that she could not provide us with what our dad was able to give us and her fighting my dad was not in our best interests. Until I came to this realization, I always thought that she did not love us otherwise she would have fought for us. In actual fact, it was because she loved us that she left us alone. She acted in our best interests.
We are disillusioned about love from our childhood thinking that love is a feeling. I have realized that in fact, love is not a feeling. Love is a state of mind. I can be annoyed with someone and still love them. I can be happy with someone and not love them. Love is what I think of someone not what I feel about that person. The fact that two people are attracted to each other does not mean that they love each other.
Love is a state of mind. When we are in a state of mind of loving someone, we act in their best interests even if our actions appear to hurt them. Discipline is a way of showing love to a child because without discipline, a child cannot thrive. Discipline cannot be administered painlessly. When you spare the rod, you are not showing love. It is when you use the rod that you are showing love.
My mother knew that we would be hurt by her actions and that is why she could only hope that we would grow up and come to a realization of why she did what she did and appreciate that she did it out of love for us and not to hurt us. It has not been easy to accept this approach towards her. It is much easier to allow the hurt to cover up the truth.
I know that I love my mother because I have acted in her best interests. I did not have any emotional bond with her, not having had a relationship with her for more than half my life, but I cared about her a lot and wanted so much to help her. Love is that state of mind that makes you want to act in someone’s best interests, disregarding your own if necessary. I can relate this state of mind to everyone whose best interests I have safeguarded and sacrificed my self interest for. I have done this for all the people I love.
Accepting my mother and her illness has not been easy for any of us. Ironically, it was my mum who taught me how to accept my mother. What I learned from my mum’s acceptance of my dad is that passion makes you see the true value of a person beyond their humanly appearance. I cannot explain how she could foresee at the time she met my dad that he was the man she would be happy with and that he would make her richer than she ever dreamed of. But I can explain how this revelation works in reference to my mother.
My mother’s humanly appearance is of a disease ridden, destitute, and needy person who any person in their right mind would be justified in running away from. But I don’t look at the person she is now when she is alive in this world, I look at the person she will be when she departs from this world and I am left standing at her grave side. At that time, all the disease, the destitution, the neediness will be gone and all that will remain is the woman through whom God chose to give me the life that I am living. A woman full of passion for life and love for her children.
1 comment:
Njeri is those are the greatest articles ever, very inspirational. I love you i do...
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