Mother’s Day marks the start of celebration cakes in our households. All of us have birthdays in the second half of the calendar year; after the Mother’s Day sweet treat, we average one cake every month till Christmas (by which time, we’re caked-out and opt for uncomplicated stuff like fruit instead!).
It is a blessing to still be able to celebrate the occasion.
Over the past year, I’ve known of friends who’ve lost their mothers. I’ve read of people who’ve grieved the same loss. I’ve watched friends grow into motherhood, embracing it in different ways – according to the wisdom God gives them, according to the needs of each of their families. I’ve seen their children honor them, amuse them and frustrate them. And I’ve friends who are looking forward to motherhood – nervous and yet excited about the coming season, filled with yet-to-be-discovered joys as well as new tests of limits.
Time passes faster than we realise, and the people we love grow older faster than we sometimes bother to notice. So, so tied up in relatively unimportant things, travelling way faster than the speed of thoughtfulness (and conscience). Not good.
So today, I watched my Mum, my Godma, my youngest aunt Sweetie and my Mama at the dining table with the silly Three Pigs cake that we ordered for the occasion – and smiled. Even though Mum’s recovering from a stuffy nose, Godma was bored, Sweetie was frustrated and Mama was falling asleep… it was a blessing to blow out those candles and have that cake.
I don’t think they noticed, but I put in an extra candle for Nilar. She has an 8-year old back in Myanmar; I think it is her first Mother’s Day away from her child.
A while later, I gazed at Mama sitting up with her bottle of water. She turned and looked at me. I smiled at her. The right side of her face lit up and she smiled back, a shy, lopsided smile.