The Blogger Mommie

When I recall precious memories of my childhood, I remember the happiest ones were days when my family would gather in my grandparents’ house for the daily night meal. It was almost like a joint family, except that everyone lived close by and we never broke that tradition for years. I remember the laughter from the kitchen as my grandma and her daughters would carefully and lovingly prepare mouthwatering dishes that we’d devour later. The grandchildren would gather to hear interesting stories that my grandpa would dish out with ease. Dinner was simple and the one dish that we always loved and looked for was grandmas Roti and the delicious side-dish she prepared to accompany it. I remember how my cousins and I would fight for the roti’s that were not ‘dark’ in color. Years later when I began my own family, I realised the trouble that my grandma had to take to prepare that ‘much loved’ meal. In the earlier days, the age old tradition of most families was to visit the grinding mill...

The day I saw those two pink lines I was filled with a million thoughts of a happy journey ahead. I couldn’t wait to become a mom and experience everything I had heard about motherhood. I hardly remember anyone talking about ‘emotions’ but I definitely received a lot of advice. I was cautioned about how sleep deprived I would be for the first few weeks (or years). I was warned about the endless advice I would get and the confusion that would make me wonder if I was doing the right thing or not. I was told to accept any help I was offered and not be too possessive of certain things that would eventually be out of my control. I thought I could handle it all. But no one told me about the ‘blues’ or the hormones that would turn my ‘mommy world’ upside down in an instant. I wish I’d known that it was normal, that all new moms experience a rush of emotions that would leave them laughing one moment and crying the next. But how can motherhood ever make a person sad, miserable or cry? ...

On a crisp evening in December, 80 year old Agnes, radiant and beautiful in a cream lace dress walked down the aisle. As the crowd stood smiling, she walked slowly towards the front of the church, pausing for a brief second as if to relive that moment. Her lips parted in a tiny smile as she remembered the same day 60 years ago when she, a nervous, young bride took her first steps toward her dream: a lifetime of love and happiness with the man she loved most dearly. David stood exactly the way he did all those years ago and as he saw her walk toward him, memories of their life together flashed before him. A tear trickled down his cheek. When she paused, he remembered how all those years ago she almost made his heart skip a beat when she stopped and pretended to take a few steps backward (much to the amusement of the crowd and a huge gasp from the priest). He loved that unpredictable and defiant streak she possessed. She was doing it again and this time, he couldn’t help but break i...