Tomorrow is ‘Mother’s Day’ in some parts of the world and so, at 7:00 am I’ll get on the phone, dial the only number I know by heart and wait for her familiar voice to greet me. I can gauge mum’s mood instantly, it is instinctual. Some day’s she’s excited to tell me the latest family gossip, on others, her tone is reflective and poignant. I can tell what my mother is thinking, before she has gotten through two lines of conversation.
My mother does so many voices!
Mum has a morning voice, a voice to call out my dog’s name, a voice for my dad, a shy voice, a ‘dinner’s ready and I am waiting’ voice that can get my brother and I out and about in under 30 seconds, an ‘I said so’ voice she rarely uses, a voice reserved for family and a voice that says she means business. My mother is voice-over artist waiting to be discovered.
But of all the voices my mother does, one of my favorites will always be the voice in which she read to me.
By the time I was four or five I was dreaming of pirates and forest sagas. By middle school, I was listening intently to her voice, guiding me as I climbed the ladder at a local books store to retrieve my weekend stash of Perry Mason novels. Sometimes she read me fiction, most times she read from her Bible. Planting permanent truths in my mind and in my heart.
I’m grateful for this childhood experience for many reasons. Having mum read to me meant that I could greet a large number of the stories and ideas that I encountered throughout my schooling as old friends. I had a frame of reference for things which would otherwise have been incomprehensible. It means that today, I get an additional layer of nostalgia when I see an Earl Stanley Gardner paperback sitting on the corner of a library shelf.
Because of mum, I have chunks of The Psalms and Paulo Coelho in quotable memory. The voice in which she read to me still reminds me of the power of words and the manner in which they can impact people’s lives.
Today, I thank my mother not just for giving me life, but giving me the ability to live several lives, and for introducing me to a shining multitude of worlds to experience them in. It is because of you, Ma, that I look at life a little closer, go deeper, travel further, and ask what if I try….? You’ll never know the full extent of what that means for me, or perhaps you do already?
Happy Mother’s Day Ma. ‘Love you heartful’