“WHO IS MY MOTHER?” (cf. Mark 3:33)
It is about 5:15pm now that I’m beginning this reflection. I just got a WhatsApp message from a friend of mine that got me thinking. It read, “Have you called your mum today?” Sadly, I haven’t! I spoke with her yesterday and so wasn’t worried to call today. Well, that question has raised up something in me that I must attend to immediately. WHO IS MY MOTHER TO ME?
I have read a lot from the social networks concerning today’s celebration. Some are celebrating their mother because she carried in the womb for 9 months and gave birth to them after the pains of labour. That’s ok! But I think motherhood is more than that. It is true that the Blessed Virgin Mary carried Jesus for 9 months in her womb but in response to the above question in Mark 3:33, Jesus raised the motherhood of Mary beyond biological terms, “Whoever does the will of God is… mother” (Mark 3:35). We all know that it is by doing the will of God that Mary conceived Jesus in her womb (cf. Luke 1:38).
So, motherhood is more than giving birth. There is a saying that any woman can give birth to a child but not all women can be called mothers. There are some women who never gave birth to any child but are called mothers. Among these are the the female religious (that is the Reverend Sisters) and some other women who are yet to conceive. I pray for those in the latter category, that God may wipe their tears and grant them the fruit of the womb. Amen.
Now, my mother… I was the last fruit of her womb. You may be familiar with how parents treat their last babies. Mine was not different. I was a year and about 3 months when her first grandson came and I was part of the luggage for omugwo (smile). There is nothing wrong with that. However, at about 3 years, I was yet part of the luggage for another omugwo. In a nutshell, I was over-pampered and stylishly spoiled. Anytime I did anything wrong, she or my father would say, “Leave him, na small pikin.” That continued until I was almost good for nothing.
Make no mistake about it! My parents were strong disciplinarians. Probably, their love for their last son was blocking their view. But they soon realized that I was getting spoiled and so changed the tune of the dance.
Hmmmm! My mother suddenly became a ‘terror’! My father? Forget that one! I still dey fear am even now that he’s been dead for 8 years! Their disciplinary techniques were second to none.
My mother was a very fat woman (you can see where I got my share), but I could not remember ever outrunning her whenever she she wanted to catch me for a punishment.
It is a shame to hear women of nowadays saying that their child does not listen to them again! Okwuru o na-aka onye kuru ya? So even when I was a ‘big boy’ in my final year of Secondary School, when I was already using cane for my subordinates in school, my parents were still using cane on me. Imagine me, a ‘big boy‘ in S.S.3 receiving cane from my parents! And now, a mother would come to me to say that her child in Primary 6 no longer listens to her! Shame! It is a shame to motherhood!! Thank God my mother never allowed me to grow above her.
Now, I can look back in thanksgiving to my childhood and adolescence, which were filled with juvenile delinquencies. Thanks to my mother who was the leg of my crippled father and who discovered when their favourite child was going bad. Thanks to my mother who believed that something could still be made of me even when most people believed that I’m finished. Thanks to my mother and father who made it possible for me to become what I am today.
Hence, in answer to the question, I dare to say that my mother is, Ezinne Bessy Edumchieke Ezeonwumelu. She is a model of motherhood.
Happy Mother’s Day, Ezigbo Nne m! My prayers for you today is that as you have made effort to save this soul for God, YOU SHALL NOT MISS HEAVEN THROUGH CHRIST OUR LORD. AMEN.
I wish all mothers can be like my mother, and even better (tears of joy).
JBCE
(6:25pm)
