Bottoms up!

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways..." ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806 – 1861)

This poem written about a hundred years ago is one of my favorites.
It is believed to have been written by a lady poet for her darling *hubby*.

How romantic!

Love is a beautiful thing. Even more so when after being born alone, you go about life’s processes in solitude wandering each day, searching for that special one to fill an imaginary vacuum and if he will ever be found.
He is special because he completes, enhances and makes you more than you ever imagined you could be. He is the wind beneath your wings, your partner in crime, champion and best friend.

He is the love of my life.

Unfortunately, some people loose patience and go for just about anybody.
That doesn’t always quite turn out nicely… These unlucky souls endure all sorts of abuse, develop a foreign character and end up cold, jaded and prejudiced.

Fortunately, today its not ‘man and woman’ matter I’m on about. It is a different kind of love.

Today I felt a beckoning warm glow, an attraction towards a darkness that felt so right its hard to admit it was wrong - devilish even.
I actually saw myself embrace ‘peace’ induced by death and a soothing voice cheering me on “just do it Oseyi” it urged “one sip and all your troubles are gone” it promised.
Backed by the feeling that I had nothing to loose this 'voice' appeared to be the voice of reason.

You see although we celebrate love; Valentine’s Day, weddings and anniversaries, there is a type of love we feel at some point (hopefully forever) but tend to take for granted.

A mother’s love.

It’s a security pass, a ‘get out of jail free’ card, a confidence booster, a soft cushion… a blanket.
A feeling that protects and shields us against whatever life throws at us.
We fall we get up.
We know were we came from and where we are headed so “no shaking”.

“Monkey no fine yet im mama still like am” a saying repeated often in jest but still manages to hold truth.
Show me a child who doesn’t love her mother and I’d show you a human with real shitty issues.
With that in mind, what happens when said beloved mother takes her love from you is a feeling best left to the imagination.
Impossible to happen in reality, I know but the thought that it could happen is worse than anything I can put to words.

On this day 21st February 2014 I say a prayer with you not for riches or fame but as a future parent. On my knees and praying to God, I pray that I may never be a source of despair or heartache to my children. To bring them up to be independent, responsible, just and smart and should they fall along the way, my shoulders be strong enough to pull their weight until walk again, they can.

To all mothers, grandmothers and great-grandmothers.
I celebrate you!
For your unfailing strength, patience and prayers. I appreciate you. If not for anything else but for the pure unadulterated love you give without condition.

Thank you.