By Debbie Olujobi
A house is laid on a foundation to give it support, strength and even structure. It’s not feasible to build a house without a base on which everything now stands. Human beings also have foundations and I would dare to say that our parents are the foundations on which we build the rest of our lives.

Even test tube babies owe their lives to the eggs and sperm that come together to make the baby. It does happen that the foundation disappears from sight as the house advances in years but its not a possibility that the foundation can be changed to match a renovation to that house; the best that can happen is that additional support can be given to that foundation to make it stronger and help it give better support.

You can choose your friends but you cant choose your family. It’s a distinct possibility that some of us would excommunicate some members of our families if we had the choice. Just like parents cant predetermine the nature and manner of child they have, children don’t get to choose their parents. Parents are the biological, emotional, physical and spiritual foundations of their children.

Every child at some point in time thinks they can do a better job of parenting than their parents and its only when they become parents they realise its not as easy as it looks. The one thing I was going to implement in my own kitchen was the nature of dishes cooked.

I wanted to only eat food that tasted like party food! I only wanted stews that were thick, meat fried and an assortment of all delicacies reserved for special occasions as my everyday meals. Reality as a parent is that such meals are unhealthy and way too expensive to make an everyday event.

A lot of the person I am is a direct reflection of who my parents were. I may have had my childish complaints as any child did but given what I know now as an adult; I think my mom in particular did the best she could with the opportunities and challenges life presented.

There are some challenges she faced that I doubt I would have had the courage to combat and she did; she fought her way through them all. My mother passed on at the age of 48 almost 16 years ago and this last wednesday would have been her 64th birthday if she had lived.

I called my brother feeling very blue and he was of the opinion that the day of her passing (june 14th) should be the one we marked but I couldn’t get myself to perk up. My mind just wouldn’t let go of the pain that seemed lodged between my shoulders somewhere. Time really does heal pain but it doesn’t stop the yearning for the physical manifestation of a love I believe to be my right and entitlement.

It is my belief that love transcends death so I continue to love my mother like she was here. I have a few articles of clothing and some of her personal effects to treasure but I find that my siblings and I are the best legacy and from us, a new generation is emerging.

I recently had a conversation with a young lady who to my surprise was not emotionally tied to her children. I could be accused of being addicted to mine as my mom was addicted to my siblings and I. We had a very touchy feely relationship and I know its not very common place in this part of the world but I would say we shared more of an intimate friendship than the sometimes aloof though respectful distance thats more common in families.

My house was very loud and noisy; we played games, ran around, ate a lot and fought a lot. I often find myself wondering what life would be like if she was still here to fight some of my battles or at least just be present to meet and love those I have so come to love.

I carry a lot of her in my heart and its funny how I remember how she smelled of orchids. She was the cleanest person I ever met and I never detected the smell of sweat on her. She bathed at least twice a day and her routine never changed even when we were abroad in the dead of winter.

She loved to dance and many nights were spent in our house with loud music and all of us dancing with her. My friends described her as the happening mom; she wasn’t shocked by anything and could listen to any problem they presented without looking shocked. It was to her room errant children went to report themselves and beg for her intervention when they didn’t dare go home.

I am past the stage of bitterness and grief at the loss of a friend, sister and mother rolled in one. I am more at a place of gratitude that I knew her at all, that she loved me and that she  was and remains the foundation on which I proudly stand.

I wish I could tell her to her face that I now understand what drove her and informed her decisions, that I forgive all those things I considered unforgivable and ask for her forgiveness for all I must have done to make her life more difficult than it was.

I wish she could see me settled in my home as a wife and a mother; she would have been so proud. I would say to her how much I loved and still love her, that I miss her everyday and that I am all that I am because she was! I am because you were!!