being human.

The children will be fine.

She raised an okay teenage boy so far. Sure, there have been the normal ups and downs of raising a boy on her own, but nothing she cannot handle with the help of her parents. Her friends have been a constant figure in his life. Seeing him grow from a pudgy wee boy to a fine young gentleman.

He has seen men come in and out of his mother’s life. Most of them were chased out of her life, if he was being honest. She was, is, not an easy person to live with. She has always been skeptical of love. What can a man bring to her life. Would there be a value-add? By normal standards, she can manage on her own. Being financially independent goes well with the kind of men that are being raised and let out into the world nowadays. Raising her boy became her life mission to make sure her son did not turn out like the men she knew and dated.

“Ma! It is my turn!” the screams of her younger children broke her train of thought. She was not really thinking about anything in particular. What could she think about? How things would turn out differently if…? If what? If she had not gotten married early? If she had not become a mother when all her friends were continuing their studies in the local universities? If she had not lost her child? If she had not gotten a divorce? If she had been more patient? If she had stopped dating and just focussed on herself and her boy?

A guilt came with that thought. Wishing for a turn back in time means she was not thankful for what she has. Her career, her home, her friends who stayed or the ones who left and most importantly, her children. And so, she stopped thinking of what would have, could have, should have and went back to the living room to referee yet another battle for the television.

The family of four gathered for dinner in front of the television as they always do. A family that eats together, stays together, or so they say. As she fed the younger ones, she realizes that one day, she need not do this anymore. She will not be needed to cook for and feed them. They may have their own families. Or they may not. Getting married has never been a topic of discussion in that household. Instead, she talks about studying and learning new things. Working, saving and travelling the world. Being happy and loving themselves. Sometimes she feel that she is being selfish for not talking about the sweetness of marriage. The benefits of a companionship. The love of having one to call your own. She may have felt but a fleeting of these feelings. Being a mother, she felt that it was her job to protect her children from heartbreaks and heart aches.

Motherhood has been a joy, most times. The tug-of-war of being there for the children all the time so that they know their mother love them versus the need to have me-time, for sanity sake, they say. You cannot pour from an empty cup. And some other motherhood quotes on Facebook backing you up as you slip into a feeling of not-good-enough.

Soon, it was bedtime. She read to the younger ones. Sometimes, rereading the same book, twice, in one night. Multiply that by seven nights. Well, so long as they still want to hear it. It is okay. The eldest son comes in for his usual goodnight kisses. He gives them and gets them. And that was what she promised him – that she would be generous with her hugs and kisses even when he is an adult. He is halfway there. She says a little thanks to God each night that he turns out a better teenager than she was.

She sent a quick text as she completed the final chores for the day. She made herself a cup of tea. Nestled comfortably in the velvet sofa and waited.  Then there it was, a phone call. Or at times, a knock on the door. Their conversation usually lasts an hour or two before they retire to sleep. Which then continues into a few more texts or chats. And, that was that. That was all she needed. A conversation with an adult that was neither a colleague nor a girlfriend or anything remotely work-related.