Homage to Edna

So, it's my maker's birthday today.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMY!!!

I have to call her. If I could, I would make her the thobekile designed card to likelyfly the homemade ones I made as a bambino, and I would write this:

"I miss the way you smell, and the way you make me feel better by simply Being.
The way you hold me when you know I'm falling apart.
The way food tastes better for the simple fact that you made it.
I used to think I was imagining things, but no!
Food literally tastes better because you made it. I'd taste flavors like the skinny chef in Ratatouille.
I didn't know it then, but this was to be my body's way
of telling me that I love someone.
When I love someone, I even see them with a warm light around them in my dreams.
It touches my heart to know how you love mom,
for yours is not an extroverted love
It's introverted. You feel that shit deep in your soul.
Every time I'm sick - I think of you. Because the thought of you makes me feel better
I'm not sure what went on when I was living inside you for those nine months,
but we have a phenomenal mommy/baby thing going on.
When I was sick with:
Malaria
Typhoid
Bilharzia
Conjunctivitis
Hernia
When I broke my limbs
When I got attacked by bird's nest fleas
When wasps stung me
When I was jumped by two boys
When I almost drowned
When I got chitedze
When I was afraid to learn how to swim
When I saw you heal spotty
And many more things...

You took care of me.

I don't take that for granted. I associate you with healing powers Mom. I think you're SUPER. Like literally, flying with a cape. When I get sick, it's your presence. I used to cry for you when I thought I was dying, and you would come and laugh at me - saying I'm a baby at heart. And it reveals itself when I think I'm dying. I giggle about this now, because I never said I thought I would die but you could always see it in my eyes. Then I'd weakly ask for a Fanta. Or a burger. You know, those are privileges where we live.

I love you, Mom.
I appreciate you, Mom.
I miss you, Mom.
I'm crying as I write this, Mom.
You Are The Best.
Even when we get on each other's nerves, you are precious about it.
I still can't believe how seriously you take me as a grown up.
I miss being mema'd by you around the house
(you know that was really hard for me to give up)

Happy Birthday, you are loved.

Ninkumpoop number:2"
If anyone see's her today, kiss her cheek for me and tell her it's from Gabi.