Christmas Dress

I miss mama, haven’t seen her in ages

She’s growing older, strands of grey hair stealthily creeping into her beautiful black hair

Only a matter of time before it finally conquers her head, then we start treating her like fragile glass

How I loathe that, wanted her to be young forever

I’ve told you before, want her to play and tease my future kids like my own grandma did with me

Back when I was little, laughing as I pronounced sheep in our Luhya vernacular

Before she was found dead in her bedroom one morning, first experience with death and how sad and scared I was

She was a piece of work, mum used to complain but she was also nice and I miss her

The other week mama had a cold, called to ask for a warm new coat and a Christmas dress too

In church on Christmas day wants to look her best, sing hymns while looking dapper like back in the day in her youth

Back in Uganda, living in a mission with her late aunt

But dear mama, are you not too old to be asking for a Christmas dress

I ask just to tease her, she says it’s neither about the dress nor the day

Only wants to look her best in a dress her son bought her, wants Hail Marry to know she raised her children right

Raised them to love and respect parents, take care of them in old age

It’s not about the Christmas dress, only wants to know if she failed as a parent.

8 thoughts on “Christmas Dress

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