By Ruby Igwe
Last year I got you flowers and a card. We were emotional for a minute, then we spent the morning in the hotel room, binge breakfasting, and catching up in person on what we didn’t say during the eight conversations we had on the phone per day.
The definition of chilling.
We called Kristin too, and made plans for next time. Eventually we got ready and went round the whole of Canterbury, meeting Christine, Ebo (George), ManuElla, Najla, Dana and Kristina, seeing all the sights until we had no more money for the very nice taxi man.
Today I will not buy flowers, or a card. There is no hotel I want to go to, no catching up required, no chilling needed, and Canterbury can wait.
Today I will cry.
And then I will clean my eyes, and call my brothers.
And we will celebrate!
Because we have a mother. You are here, but you are not here.
You have multiplied yourself and your love: we have many mothers. Both male and female, young and old. So many. My cup runneth over.
Happy Mother’s Day Mamma Mia. Happy Mother’s Day Mothers.
Love you loads, and then some.
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