Obiagu Makes

Hey beautiful people!

Mother’s Day was two days ago, and I’ve decided to take the space now to talk about my day. When May comes around, I usually have no interest in checking which day the holiday falls on—but thanks to ads a week before, I found out it was on the 11th.

Now, Mother’s Day is a holiday that will always bring on a bit of sadness since my mom isn’t here physically. But this Mother’s Day? It landed on the same day as her death anniversary.

I know some people may get tired of the story, but when I talk about myself—my growth, upbringing, motivations, etc.—I can’t not mention my mother. She’s the one who shaped me into the Kamali you see today.

As several of you know, I lost my mother in 2010 when I was pregnant with her first grandchild. That Friday before, we had just found out the gender—which she had already known since I was 14 (maybe I’ll get into that story in another post, lemme know!). She was elated that I was having a boy. Her joy made me so excited to become a mother to a son.

That Sunday before was Mother’s Day. She was having a ball with our cousins and wished me a happy first Mother’s Day. I loved that conversation. But that following Monday, I got the call that she had a stroke. You can see how this holiday makes things really difficult, right? It started with a voicemail from my 9-year-old brother and a follow-up call from our neighbor.

I was in the Navy at the time and was distraught, with a constant feeling of “this can’t be real” pressing up against my chest. After landing back in my hometown, the doctors informed me that she was brain dead and that nothing could be done. I could add more details, but I’ll spare them—don’t want the tears messing up my keyboard

Though her life ended early at the age of 42, her impact on my life was huge and prepared me for a life without her. However, it didn’t prepare me for years of random and sudden crying sessions. Nor did it prepare me for the moments I’d look at my kids and get angry that she’s not here to physically embrace them—knowing she would’ve loved them deeply with all of her heart.

Or how she would’ve seen my babies as a chance to do better than how she raised my brother and me. The timing of her passing lets me know she suffered in silence and held on long enough for me to get married to the man she loved for me and to confirm the gender of her first grandbaby.

Now, if you know anything about grieving a loved one—especially a parent—grief doesn’t have a schedule. It comes unexpectedly. A memory, color, song, food, scent, or quote can trigger sadness.

This Mother’s Day, I didn’t cry. I woke up feeling empty, knowing that this day would hit me with a double punch of heartache. I’d like to thank my husband for making this day intentional. I didn’t shed any tears, but over the years, I’ve learned that just because I didn’t cry on a certain day doesn’t mean I’m in the clear. Like I said—it can come from anywhere. Sometimes when I’m alone, that’s when it rushes in.

This Sunday? It started with yummy donuts and fruit, followed by a trip to the park with our babies. We played on the playground, at the basketball court, in the open field, and the kids and I did our reality cooking competition where we use what nature provides and pretend it’s food. We even had a picnic!

I was so thankful for that moment because I couldn’t just sit in my feelings—I had several pauses to be grateful for my family. I’m so blessed to have an incredible husband, amazing kids, and a kindhearted, funny brother walking this life journey with me.

Pause…
I’m gonna pause for a second and send a shoutout to my mother-in-law, Cynthia. This woman created the beautiful man I get to call my husband. She’s loving, caring, funny, and has played an important mother role in my life as well.

Oftentimes, she reminds me of my mother—but I think, overall, older Black mothers have shared characteristics in the community that create a sense of familiarity between one another. Nonetheless, I’m so thankful for her and smile each time she calls me her daughter.

Now, back to Sunday.

When we got home, we ate one of my favorite foods: lemon pepper wings (drools), then played Uno No Mercy (ultimate level of savagery, btw). We watched our favorite show, Bob’s Burgers, while eating ice cream. My husband was also intentional with this—he bought my mother’s favorite ice cream: butter pecan. It was sooo good.

My mother really had great taste in food, and I’ve realized that many of the foods she loved, I love too. Maybe it’s a coping thing, or maybe I just happen to like what she liked. Who knows.

That night, my husband lit sage candles, and I pulled a couple tarot cards for us. The messages gave us some focus for the week, and it was soothing to connect with my ancestors for a bit and thank them.

The night ended with echoes of the simplest yet most important aspects of life:

• the ability to move one’s body
• nature
• laughter
• play
• quality time
• parenthood
• & physical touch, as my husband snuggled me to sleep.

My mother’s loss was a great one that affected me in so many ways, but I’m thankful for the life I have and the chance to use what Brenda taught me—both physically and spiritually.

I hope everyone had a chance to show the mothers in their lives how much they’re appreciated. I think so much about my mom on this day that I sometimes forget I’m a mom and should be celebrating myself. My husband’s plans helped shift that focus back onto me.

There’s no doubt that motherhood is a role I was meant for. I was born to nurture babies and give them love and care. It’s a part of my life that gives me life and keeps me wanting more out of life.

Sometimes I feel that when I hug my babies, my mother joins in on the embrace.

Happy belated Mothers day!

-Kamali