Lift Them UP!

I know why I made the choices I made. I thought love naturally included being hit so hard you can’t breathe while you ask what you did wrong. I thought love included looking at your father as he towers over you and he berates you for trying to understand him because he says you’re looking at him rudely, when really, your glasses’ frame was in the way and you were trying to see him properly. I thought love included criticism and comparisons to others who were ‘better’ than me. And that all Black mothers have DNA that makes them tell their daughters that they are ugly, that ask their daughters if they’re serving lunch at church to catch a husband…

And so, I chose a love that wasn’t as bad.

Yesterday evening, I checked on my first daughter, asking how she was, telling her the new thing her non-speaking sister did that killed my back at the end of a long day. It’s complicated by my having to be off Rinvoq. The pain and fatigue are that much worse. I pray I heal ok so I can resume on day seven post op! (Not cancerous! It was indeed a disgusting looking lipoma. And not the smooth ball type but it was irregular. The surgery is a whole other discussion. Being awake to be able to tell the doctor you can feel the scalpel slicing into your calf is not something I would suggest you do!)

Let’s go back to yesterday. She has started this thing where she has to be in my bedroom. One- that’s bad because she’s still very infectious as are her siblings, so being on my bed when I’m trying to not hurt my body more, is not a good idea. As you know, each sickness reduces lung function. And, it can be dangerous. What kills lung people like me is that one infection they couldn’t recover from. Two- I knew I was having surgery today. Not only does she want to be on my bedroom, she wants the mattress off the base! And then roams around! Not comfortable. The least painful position for me is leaning against the headboard.

I told my girl about her nutty sister and she sent me this last night.

It was my flowers, lol. Flowers for surviving the newest autism baptism by fire. But, she denigrated her efforts. And in my home, that is not on. I build up, not tear down. No sarcasm, no putting you down, no telling you there’s a better app to do better than this… I will raise my children to hear my voice and God’s voice. Her efforts are worth all the gold in the world, because God loves compassion. I don’t see anything negative, and if there was, I’d still not say it because it truly is the thought that counts! I want her to KNOW that I see her heart and soul, I don’t judge her based on shallow standards. I judge her through the eyes of love. And love wants to make you happy.

My other children… My Amarissa who doesn’t want a big birthday celebration buyout does want cake but no singing. We decided we will sing on Family Day, remembered mommy saying a while ago that I used to wish I could have a Mother’s Day. I think she does, because with me being their School Teacher, I’ve never told them about it, I’ve only asked their father if he could do one with them and he said no, as I’m not his mother.

But what my son said here, means she discussed it with him because he’s never said it before. And it’s not Mother’s Day. This is post op. The bleeding is scary as it’s more than when I left surgery. I hope it stops. If you fear blood, don’t look. Just go to their sweet video.

This is now as I type

And this was earlier when I got home

Let’s not forget. Besides Rinvoq causing a higher risk of blood clots, complications, infections, it also slows wound healing. This is going to be a scary ride! Let’s hope by the hoped for 14 days, I’ll be able to get the stitches out.

So, that’s my plea. Lift your children up! Yours might be the only voice that empowers them, that allows them to see every have value just by existing. Not in status, not in job roles and positions, but because they are alive and wanted and loved. True unconditional love. A love that cares about character not about qualifications, principles not positions! And so though my IBS stops me eating some of the things my angels bought me with their pocket money, they won’t know that.

I used to give a certain person gifts they made very clear they didn’t like. “Yes it’s a black watch but it must have a third clock inside.” The exercise so I bought them a water bottle. Never used not even as token. They didn’t like that, didn’t like the words accompanying the gift. But when it came to me, different rules. They’d praise the gifts they bought me. “I know I bought them, but I really like those balloons I got you.” They had NEVER seen me with a teddy bear. Never heard me saying a teddy in a display was cute. But years ago, they kept giving me teddy bears and not once did I show any ingratitude. Then they got upset that I lovingly passed it onto their child, who DID love teddy bears. You actually have to be quite mentally disordered to be upset that a stuffed toy that had just been lying there, is being cuddled by your own children who are handling it gently. It’s yet another sign that they didn’t want to LOVE their children like a father SHOULD. And also, it was a gift for me. So I should have been able to do with it what I wanted. I didn’t even think to challenge that part!

I don’t ever want the children feeling like they can never show me how they love me, correctly. I can’t control what others say to them, but I can fill their minds with knowledge that their heart is important to me. They hold my heart. Plus, I loved it because they did it with pure intentions. And didn’t praise themselves for giving me things I’d never expressed a love for. ❤️

This is disjointed. I can’t even sleep. My non speaker keeps coming into the room. She coughs and breathes with her mouth open. And -of course- might not speak to me, but does make noise so I am not sure this flowed as much as I wanted it to. I just wanted to mention the gifts I am thankful for, and to undo another generational curse. All my children must know that they have given their best and their best is MY best. Nothing insignificant about it. Nothing to criticize.

And my last point. My prayers for children who will feel safe telling me anything. My sweet girl, my oldest daughter, asked me if it’s ok for her to go to Gold Reef City on the train with an Indian friend and others, using the Gautrain, as requested by the Indian friend who is leaving South Africa. I never asked my mother if I could do anything when I left home to move into university. It didn’t even cross my mind to. She will be using her money, going at her time – in the morning (I asked) and not on the Sabbath. But she recalled reading how places of mere amusement are a waste of time and energy, whereas recreation was the ideal. A place to go contemplate Christ, His nature… So she wasn’t sure she should go!

This girl tells me about her friends’ interesting boyfriends…. But I never thought she’d ask for permission to go somewhere based on a principle I got them to study years ago. I told her that seeing as it is a farewell ‘gift’ for her friend and they aren’t going just to go waste money, and if she will budget properly so she doesn’t ask me for more money before the month is over, and if she will be true to her principles, I am fine! And I also requested their names which she gave me. I bet she will be excited. I don’t think she’s ever ridden on the Gautrain. It was so different to my childhood trains. Though she’s never taken a trip in ANY train so it might seem normal to her.

But man! I’m so chuffed! She asked for permission when really, unless something went wrong, I’d not have even known anyway. More generational curses being broken by our daughters! What a blessing to know that if you give to the right heart, you will receive in return. She knows she’s my child, but she also knows she matters. So she is able to tell me anything.

Love begets love.❤️