Childhood Motherhood

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I remember Mum’s face, the smiley one and angry version. It is exactly 4 years now. To me life meant two things to us: Mum and the belief that nothing can’t be achieved. I owe the latter to her. She ingrained it in my psyche.

I can hear the echoes of her soprano voice, dancing through the neurons in my head. Her words, “daughter, see, you can do anything in life; just put your mind to it. Simple”, have stuck in my head like pores have on my temple.

Sadly though, Little Ann didn’t enjoy much of that. Not because Mum wouldn’t want to but because her nostrils couldn’t breath the air of longevity.

Since she couldn’t, I would, I have always thought. On this day, as Little Ann cuddles behind my back in an innocent sleep, I look forward and all I could see was Little Ann’s Mum, which I have become. Well, I wouldn’t bulge. Why would I? Isn’t that the joy of motherhood? — a child.

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