Photographed by Alex Shalman
Okay, I was in the kitchen frying some plantains and was too lazy to use the fork to turn them over, so I used the knife in my hand. My grandmother’s voice echoed in my ear as my husband peeped over my shoulder and said you will make the knife dull. My reply was no I should not use the knife in a hot pan because mama said doing that would giving me ‘cutting in my stomach.’ He said that he is sure that is not the reason why she didn’t want me to use the knife for cooking. He said maybe she just wanted you to use a spoon and that was the reason she gave you. Who can tell if that was her real reason or who can tell how far back generationally this ‘cutting in your belly’ tradition goes back? When you really think of it I was dependent upon and trusted my grandmother and her advice was written in stone. I did not think what she said was invalid or even question the concept. I adapted anything and everything from her. This story is like that ham story where people for years have been cutting off the ends of the ham because of tradition or habit, but the real reason was that originally both ends of the ham were cut to fit in a small pan. As my friend Susan puts it so eloquently “how rich our lives become as we learn each day, from our assumptions, lack of knowledge, oversights, and even mistakes.”
Today mothers in Gibraltar, Nigeria, Republic of Ireland and the United Kingdom celebrate mother’s day. At the same time, the Anglican Province of the West Indies observes today as Mothering Sunday. The origin of Mothering Sunday dates back to the 16th century; on the fourth Sunday of Lent children would attend church with their mothers. A special day was created for women who were live-in servants to affluent families. On Mothering Sunday these women were allowed to go home from their jobs as servants or maids. In many homes, the housekeeper or cook would help the maids prepare cakes and bouquets of flowers from the garden to be presented to their mother upon their return. I believe that all mothers everywhere deserve to be honoured and not just today. Thank you all of the women who have mentored and influenced us in such special ways.
Incisive decisions beat
Eyes smile to the gentle rhythm
Tulip bosom expressive all season
Seraphic energy molds
those who spring from
and around you
Feathers of nurture
Spirit laps no cost
As your crescent shape cradles
We honor
-
Poem by Brenda L. McCartney
Photographed by Susan Koster
With a clever smile on her face
She sits at the table
Whispering as if she is speaking privately to a friend
Her behavior of such maturity at three
My heart thumps to the vaudeville beat of her words
A child’s unusual aplomb.
A mother encouraged
Unable to relax her grip
-
She defines her future
With such candor
Her body agrees with stronger emotions
Her mother silently prays the world be kind to her
As she snaps back into cheerleader mode
Open to unchanging paths
No matter how long the road
-
Poem by Brenda L. McCartney
Click the download button – below – to hear me read this poem.
Recent Comments