Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers, young and old alike. For me, this the first time that I have no mother to toast on this day but I am not crying or complaining because I am very happy and thankful that I had her around for so many years in my very long life.
Although I no longer have my birth mother, I do have four mothers for whose birth (almost said to whom I gave birth) I was responsible in the persons of four daughters – Kelly, Tricia, Kathy-ann and Karen – who combined have given me seven wonderful grandchildren.
Added to the tribe is Leah, the mother who has given a daughter to my son Al Jr, who lives in New York; Renee, who has done likewise with twin sons for my second son Alex, who lives in Boston; and Shaddia, who has blessed my third son Damani in Barbados with a son of his own.
Of those 11 grands, five are in line, with God’s blessings, to also become mothers in the future and thereby provide me with some sweet little great-grandsons and great-granddaughters to keep me amused and comfort me in my sunset days.
Hopefully, advanced “Al-zimers” will not prevent me from recognizing or being able to remember who those future little ones are or whose they are or which name belongs to whom. So here’s hoping that all you mothers enjoy the best this day has to offer.
Today I also want to wish happy birthday to my good friend of more years than I can remember, Elombe Mottley – who, by his own admission, is celebrating his 75th.
Of course (LOL) I am many, many years younger than he is, having celebrated only my . . .ty-second birthday last January, but my relationship with Elton, as he was then known, goes all the way back to my short khaki pants-days as a junior in Harrison College.
Those days, while most of the other students in that then all-boys institution devoted their spare time to “stuffing” books, studies or honing their cricketing, football, basketball and athletic skills, a rebellious non-conformist few like Elton and I indulged in the pleasure and enjoyment to be found in popular music of the day, especially in the much detested and berated “banjo” music better known as calypso.
His preferred instruments were the piano and guitar; mine was steel pan. But I also had a reputation for knowing by heart all the popular calypsos of the day, both by better known Bajan calypsonians like Mighty Charmer, Lord Radio, Mighty Jerry and Shilling and wider Caribbean bards like Mighty Sparrow, Lord Kitchener, Lord Melody and Small Island Pride.
On the final day of the term, Elton would bring to school his guitar for a calypso jam session in the school hall, much to the chagrin of those in charge. It bewildered me why nobody, especially the headmaster, ever tried to stop those “wild” parties, mainly because on being informed that I played steel pan in public, he lectured me on what it means to be a Harrison College boy and the great tradition I was supposed to uphold.
After letting me know that Harrison College and such activity were incompatible, he left me with an ultimatum to choose between the two.
Nevertheless, our end-of-term parties continued. I was the calypsonian and would bring down the house with the likes of Sparrow’s Jean And Dinah, the Queen’s Canary and May May.
• Al Gilkes heads a public relations firm.
