You know today is a special day, right? I KNOW you know… felt it in your bones when you woke up this morning, didn’t you?! Don’t worry, I did too. And no, your bones aren’t wrong, it IS a special day. One of the most special days actually (for me at least). It’s the anniversary of the day, that glorious day, when my grandmother chose to exercise her Creator given right to bring forth life in this realm. She allowed my mother to come through her. Today is the anniversary of her (my grandmother’s) 4th birthing day (she had 8 of them in all)! Today is also the anniversary of my mother’s birth-day; epic for me because had that event not happened that January 12th many moons ago, I wouldn’t be here to write this note now. So, if for no other reason than my selfish gratitude for what ultimately lead to my birth, I cherish this day and both these women.
But my mother went ahead and gave more reasons to honour and revere and cherish and love her with every ounce of me and, by extension, hold this day in even higher regard. See, my mother is the ultimate work-in-progress, and she keeps it real! At no point in my life do I recall my mother pretending to be the perfect, I-got-life-all-figured-out-so-I’m-gonna-act-like-it type. I love that about her because in being open with her flaws and short-comings she taught me that life, our journey through life, is just that, a journey, a constant movement; evolution towards the ultimate goal of being, perfectly, whatever/whomever we were divinely created to be. Because of that honesty of hers, I’ve learned to accept and respect the process of BEcoming.
My mother laughs. Seriously laughs. From the gut, every cell engaged, happy tears about to flow in 5-4-3-2-1 type laughs. She laughs at everything and no one is exempt from being the cause of her laughter, including (sometimes especially) herself. She laughs because… she laughs whenever… she laughs despite… This woman is the personification of don’t-take-life-so-seriously (another thing I love about her) and I’m learning to appreciate that aspect of her in me. She reminds me to loosen up, let my hair down, LAUGH and be laughed at; lessons I’m still learning (too many years of caring about appearances and what other people think have left me too guarded, tight ass-ish, and unlaughed). But the more I evolve the more like her (in this regard) I become… and I like that.
My mother enjoys life! She truly does. Limitations of finances and time notwithstanding, she enjoys life. Wherever she is she will enjoy herself and usually you can’t help but enjoy yourself with her. This is a woman who discovered her passion for dancing and jumped into it with open, freeing abandon. Ballroom dancing. Latin dancing. Line dancing. Modern. Jazz. Dancehall… you name it, if it crosses her mind she’s going to do it! And not just do it she going to take it and run with it; she’s going to perform with it; she going to compete in it (and place… if not win). As a matter of fact, she teaches it too. It’s her passion! Now mind you, this discovery didn’t take place in her 20s or 30s. Nah man! That would be too easy, too textbook for her. Her awakening to this passion was at 50something, a period when many women are comfortably (or uncomfortably) settled with whatever life has (or hasn’t) delivered to them. It’s the period when “I can’t do…” starts to sound like a religious chant and “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks” is the too-easy excuse of choice. My mother found this passion, grabbed it, and did the tango!…then salsa!… then tapped into her inner dancehall queen! She’s LIVING HER LIFE! And isn’t that what life should be about? Living those passions of the spirit; the things that resonate with us at a core level. That (or those) “I was born to do this” thing(s). She embraces and lives the mantra “LIFE IS TO BE LIVED!” Whenever I forget that, a memory of her is usually all I need to re-infuse me with it’s truth.
I could go on and on about this woman who chose to exercise HER Creator given right and allowed me to be here – about her always (and I do mean ALL-WAYS)
being there for me as best she could; about her sacrificing all throughout my childhood so that we (my brother and I) would be raised right; about her seeing me through to adulthood and still being the mommy I still need her to be. I could, but I won’t. Today, on this particular anniversary, I just want to revel in the thoughts of the first phenomenal woman in my life; the woman who is and has been the blueprint of woman in my mind… and phenomenally so.
Happiest birthday ever to you mommy. You are forever, my heart!