Clot - Mother

“Welcome.” She says hugging me tightly, and then my wife.

“Come in, come in. I made some lime juice, it’s been so hot and on a day like this its great with ice.” Like most houses on the island my mother’s house has two porches so you can sit away from direct sunlight at anytime of the day. We followed her into the front porch, which is elevated about four feet.  It is bordered by a white, waist high, decorative, wrought iron rail. As we climbed the steps I admired the care and detail of the craftsmanship as she ushered us to chairs, whose design matched the rail with seats and backs covered by a pale green cushion. She poured us some lime juice over ice, before reaching for a glass she had been drinking from.

“You look good.” She said, locking eyes with me before looking at Nayasha. “You both do.”

I looked into her eyes and saw only part of the woman I knew. She looked tired and defeated. My heart sank. I focused on our news and smiled.

“How are you Mother?”

“I fear that the spirit is far more willing than the flesh.” She said with another strong willed smile. It was the manner of speech adopted by elders on the island, when they had made peace with their mortality and their God. “But I’m sure that you two have far happier news of your own.”

My wife shot me a side glance as a smile teased the corners of her mouth.

“Don’t look at me.” I said with my hands to the heavens. “I haven’t said a word.”

“I’m sorry dear.” My mother said reaching for Nayasha’s hand. “I didn’t mean to spoil your news, but I have delivered my share of children. I am familiar with the glow of a first time mother. Congratulations.” Nayasha was touched and squeezed my mother’s hand before kissing both her cheeks.

“Thank you Mom.” Nayasha said. I sat back and smiled, feeling the corners of my eyes moisten. I have rarely seen my mother as open or emotional. She looked at me and smiled with considerably less effort.

“Thank you. This is a beautiful gift for us all and I love you both…that is to say the three of you.” Still holding one of Nayasha’s hands she reached for my hand. As we held hands and wept and laughed I felt like we were making amends for the past. Our unborn child had already given us so much and I gained a deeper appreciation for the wisdom of my wife.