A Day After Mother’s Day

Was this a test of my love for my mother just a day after mother’s day?

Was this God’s way of punishing me for choosing to spend the day working on my thesis rather than spending the day with her?

Or I was just being made to feel half of what my mother feels when I or anyone she loves is sick?

Or it wasn’t about me? Was it my father’s love she wanted to test? Or even my brother’s because as far as I am concerned, he is the stubborn one.

It was the day after mother’s day and the day had gone well. I decided to call my mother the fourth time, to as usual “bother her” with a request. She did not answer. I didn’t sense danger because it was not strange of her. She usually leaves her phone unattended when she has pressing issues.

It’s one of those days I thought. On the sixth ring, I heard a male voice answer, “hello”. My dad! Why was he answering her call? Well, he must have seen that it was me, so it was cool.

But it started to feel weird when after all the how –are –you, how –is –school, where –are –you he didn’t say “hold on for your mum.  ‘Where is mummy? Please give her the phone”. He said she wasn’t well .My only response was ‘okay. Let me talk to her’. The only ailment I have known my mum to suffer is tiredness or headache or considering the fact that she talks a lot, she may have mouth pains (which she hasn’t confessed yet because the antidote will be for her to ignore our wrongs).

Apparently, she had been admitted. I headed towards the hospital without knowing what was wrong with her. Since I said I was going there, my father asked me to get there and then we talk. I thought to myself, “Why did I have to get there first”? He should just say she has a headache and will be fine so my fears are allayed (numerous stories I had heard of how the news of a loved one’s passing was broken to them rushed through my mind). Before I could tell him that, the call had dropped on the other side of the line.