Garth Rattray | Ode to mother

Even as a child, I wondered why my siblings and I called our mother ‘Mother’. We never called her ‘Mom’, ‘Mommy’, ‘Moms’, ‘Momsy’, ‘Mamma’, ‘Mum’, ‘Mummy’, or ‘Ma’. There was no historical or cultural basis for calling her ‘Mother’, and it seemed to convey some degree of formality, the kind that is usually reserved for aristocracy.  

However, the use of the word ‘Mother’ possessed a high degree of esteem, recognised her importance as a foundation/bedrock, and provided a conduit for an extremely close attachment, respect, and deep affection. The word ‘Mother’ encompassed every aspect of motherhood.    

Mother was born in Miranda, Santiago de Cuba on July 26, 1926. God willing, she will shortly join the 0.01 to 0.03 percent of people who become centenarians. She left Cuba for Jamaica with her mother when she was six years old. She barely remembers her father but recalls the last time that she saw him. He walked with a limp because of a partial [traumatic] amputation of a foot from an accident while working on the railroad. He gave her a bag of animal crackers just before she left for Jamaica. Some years later he passed while living in Cuba, she never got the opportunity to see him again.  

Like several other Jamaicans of that day, her mother travelled to Cuba to find employment. She became a caretaker for the young Castro brothers, Fidel and Raul. Mother remembers the Castro boys. She also remembers the town in which she grew up, the sugarcane fields, the ‘cacho’, (a loud whistle on the top of a silo that was used to signal the beginning and the end of the workday). She also remembers the main street, the theatre house, the playing field, and the clinic.

She recalls her boat journey to Jamaica and how she almost fell into the water while disembarking. Her life was saved by a nearby gentleman who grabbed her. She recalls her formative years in Greenwich Town and the family yard in which she shared abode and amenities with her siblings and several generations of relatives.

Her mother never fully understood her because she always possessed a regal air. She was never one to fall in line or follow the examples of her peers. That single but extremely important attribute kept her out of trouble, allowed her to focus on her academic and professional goals, and garner the utmost respect from anyone who knew her. Her mother passed in late 1968 and, although she had an older brother, Mother became the matriarch of that family.

Poverty made it extremely difficult for her to gain the level of education for which she yearned; so, she worked very briefly at an unrelated job before becoming a probationer teacher. Over time she improved her skills with tertiary education from the Moneague [Teacher Training] College, and eventually from The University of the West Indies (Mona campus).

Early in her life’s journey, she caught the admiration of the young man who was destined to become her husband and my father. He was very driven to lift himself out of the clinging poverty in which so many were mired. He was dashing but most of all, he was gifted with uncommon intelligence and quickness of mind. Their friendship was platonic for many years until it eventually blossomed into something more.

Although she enjoyed dancing and having a good time, Mother’s enduring self-respect and unwavering goal of higher education detached her from the everyday, meaningless trivial pursuit of empty pleasure-seeking habits. Additionally, her strong religious beliefs and spiritual commitment kept her securely anchored to the Methodist Church and away from mundanity and secularity.

A few misinterpreted her propriety for aloofness, but the vast majority of people with whom she interacted found her to be unpretentious, kind, considerate, helpful, giving, and unquestionably of the highest moral standard.

She was born to be an educator. Her unspoken motto was ‘treat every child as your own’. She gave free after school (extra) lessons to the students who needed to catch up. Remarkably, while she was in her 90s, she tutored her granddaughter in mathematics to assist her to matriculate for college. Her [voluntary] extracurricular activities included coaching the netball team and teaching dance. After many years of teaching, she qualified herself and became the school counsellor.

By the time that she retired, she had worked at two schools and had gained so much love and respect from the students and staff that she was given the biggest and most elaborate send-off in the history of the school. A naturalised Jamaican and now a naturalised American, Mother has, and continues to impact the lives of innumerable Jamaicans in a very positive and long-lasting way.

Mother’s pride in herself as a teacher caused her to spurn the Victoria Jubilee Hospital for her obstetric care because they insisted on registering her as a ‘housewife’. Mother left, never to return to have any of her three children there.

Mother is extremely family oriented and has always been a superb parent. her life is never [just] about her; it has always been about other people and, of course, her children. My father played his role in our lives, and our mother has always been the ever ready, ever present, all-rounder who nurtures us, cares for us, and loves us with her all.

I have always been and continue to be richly blessed by Mother’s presence. She is our Queen.

Happy Mother’s Day to Mother, to all biological mothers, and to all who mothered children.

Garth Rattray is a medical doctor with a family practice, and author of ‘The Long and Short of Thick and Thin’. Send feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com and garthrattray@gmail.com.