He whispered “mommy” using his little hands to feel around the narrow hospital bed; trying to search for his mommy.

It had been a long Summer and baby boy had been ill, the doctor had recommended surgery, so he can at least see and look decent like his mates. He was so tiny, and he loved no one but his sister. He could not speak either, but he would always reach for her and when she was not home, he would sit at the door and patiently wait for her. And his mother, she would try to hold and pacify him, she would leave the bedroom door open and call out his name; in order words, giving him the hope that there was more love and all he had to do was crawl through the door. All he had to do was crawl through the door to Mommy *tears

It was weeks later, and the surgery was done, all were jolly, but for baby boy in pain. So little he was, yet so much he had to go though just to live a normal life. This was surgery number 2. Aunty Binta had been taking care of his sister, because mommy and baby had to stay back at the hospital. Well, baby boy returned home from the hospital and here he was reaching for his sister. Did I mention how much he loved his sister? “Okay here hold your brother while I get him some yogurt,” said mommy to baby girl and upon mommy’s return, she saw blood all over the place. Baby boy was coughing out blood. The thought of loosing her child buzzed through her mind and for the life of her, she could not make out how they made it to the emergency room. Immediately she stepped into the ER, the doctors without question grabbed the baby, asked all the vital questions and baby boy was back in surgery. The suture had opened up with his crying from pain and  it had to be cauterized immediately to stop the bleeding. “Which kind wahala be this?” she asked herself. “Na crime to born pikin? Where was GOD in all of these?” She had so many questions  running back and forth in her mind.

“Ma’am?” She woke up startled at the mere touch of a hand on her shoulder “Ma’am your boy is out of the OR. Would you like to see him now?” It was one of the OR nurses. Mommy jumped out of the chair where she had been sitting, and dragging baby girl with her, she ran to see her son. He had an Iv in his little arm and was fast asleep. The room felt eerie, it was filled with all kinds of gadgets and an oxygen tank on stand by. Baby boy smiled as mommy touched him, even in his sleep he felt his mommy. An hour later he mumbled “mommy” He was beginning to cry as he was reaching for her. There was no way mommy could fit into his bed, so the staff at the hospital had to move both mommy, baby and sister to a bigger room with a bigger bed for mommy and son and a pull out bed for baby girl. The child was not letting anyone out of his sight and the doctors had to find a way for their little family to stay together until he was well.

Night and day mother and child stayed in one bed while baby girl used the pull out bed. The hospital room had become their make shift home. Each time mommy had to use the bathroom or stretch her legs from lying down so much; baby boy would cry. He had began to bond with his mommy. In his little mind, mommy was and is everything. This was the same mommy, he never really wanted to hold him. So, what happened? What changed?

We tend to take our parents for granted, I think it is the familiarity. I thought my father was immortal. He passed a way when I was 16. The older I get, the more I miss him. He ought to be alive to see my struggles. The struggles I have had with my son who now says I am his “life”. Parents play a huge role in our lives. No matter their mistakes as parents,  their love is always solid. My mother is my “life” I could not imagine this life without her. I wonder how those who have no parents must feel. With my father’s passing, life almost felt meaningless. Now, the life is what I see in “small boy’s” eyes, in his smile, in his pain….

What legacy are you leaving your children with? And to those who have none, what legacy do you intend to leave for the children you intend on having? When I say legacy, I do not mean anything material. I ask, how do you want to be remembered?