So long a letter to you my ailing mum

Witnessing the joy of students graduating from Makerere University has brought back memories of a day which should have been one of the happiest of my life. It was, in many ways, but the happiness was tinged with sadness.
January 22, 2010 was the day I was to graduate from my first social sciences degree.It had been a long hard journey, as the last born.
My mother had raised us single-handledly and worked to put each of us through school so that we could have opportunities she never had. It was hard for her, but the joy it brought her to see us succeed was priceless.
My mother suffers from a disease of the nervous system which interrupts blood flow and causes problems with circulation in her veins.
The frequent blockages would cause her a lot of pain, the condition came and went.During illness we knew what to expect and gave her the medication she needed to get up running again. We had become used to it.

Change of the tide

Late November 2009, the illness reared its head again. We did what we always did and brought the right medicine, allowed her to rest and took her for the routine therapy she needed.
Something was different this time though, she was not responding to the medication and as Christmas Day drew nearer, we faced the possibility of losing her.
On the eve of graduation, more than two months into this bout of sickness, I was wondering if she would live to see the next day. Everyone else was so excited; it felt so unfair that I could not be happy with them, instead worrying about losing my mother.
The day was already sad because of memories of losing my older brother, who had told me before he passed on that it was his dream to see me graduate and become a responsible citizen.
Joining university was about fulfilling the dreams of three people, knowledge which was weighing on my shoulders on that day.

Happy yet sad
January 22 finally arrived; I woke up at 5.30am and dressed up in the beautiful green dress my good friend Emily had bought for me.
Once I was prepared, I entered my mother’s room, tears flowed down her face as she looked at me from her bed, too helpless to get up and hug me, as I knew she desperately wanted.
“Camay, you look amazing,” she said. “My heart is filled with joy. God bless you my child. When they read your name just imagine I’m seated at the back clapping and celebrating our achievement. My sister Daniella will stand in for me and your eldest brother.”
This was a very emotional moment for us, my brothers and I burst into tears.
She continued, “Camilla, stop crying; go enjoy your graduation ceremony. Your friends are waiting for you. As you can see I’m helpless. I can’t walk, but I know that you understand that my dream and wish has always been to walk you to the graduation ground.”
The walk from the parking lot to the graduation ground was the most painful and saddest walk of my life.
Believing that I would reach home and find my mother in extreme pain, the tears just couldn’t stop as I walked to the grounds with my brother and aunt beside me.
It didn’t make sense, it wasn’t logical because emotions rarely are. All my life I had dreamed of this moment with my mother, my best friend, beside me.
She was missing. I had shared every bit of my university experience with her, boy issues, work issues, frustrations and fears.
Yet now I was facing my next step into the world alone. I tried to take strength from the words she had said to me before I left, but thinking of her at home was too much to bear.
The best part of my day was reaching home and finding my mother where I had left her.
I took off my mortarboard, the hat awarded to all graduates, and handed it to her, it belonged to her as much as it did to me. We thanked God for my achievement and I spent the remainder of the day lying next to the woman who had made me.
I will forever be grateful to you, mummy, for having invested in my education and for the immense personal sacrifices you had to make to push me to another level of life. I do not take that love for granted.