So I'm driving around with number one child searching for that which is most important in the world: a Banana Solo. And I think to myself this is what it all comes down to: After graduating from university, doing a fantastic internship in fashion in Hong Kong and China, Ijanaya, who always has her priorities straight, wants nothing more in the world than to drink a Banana Solo. Never mind that she is 23-years-old now. It feels the same as when she was three-except of course I did not give my three-year-olds sweet drink, not even Banana Solo. Rest assured when she was a child I was there to help out in situations equally as desperate.
Sometimes I felt like tearing my hair out. Little children can be annoying and teenagers can be so demanding, so exasperating. It is always about me, me, me and mothers-especially single mothers-are reduced to nothing more than cash cows and taxi drivers. There was all those extra lessons I was determined not to get sucked into and jazz and ballet classes that were just as important to me as they were to her. There had to be some escape from school stress. Everything seemed like a trauma.
Now that Ijanaya has weathered all of those storms that school brought at every stage of her life, I marvel at that independent spirit which often pushed my buttons. I also marvel at how she keeps trying to make connections to her country-even through something as simple as drinking Banana Solo. I always tried to nurture my children's roots. This was not an easy task because all my love for T&T did not and could not make up for the fact that my roots were different than my children's. Still, I did the best I could. I fumbled around and played plenty of calypso. In general, I was always too tired and too cranky to do a good job at anything-including planting roots for them. When my children were growing up I worked too much because I had to and I ate myself into oblivion, which didn't give me more energy or a better disposition. It was a vicious circle.
I always thought I had to give more, buy more, be more to them and that would make up for any shortcomings. That would make up for them not having a West Indian mother and an absentee father. And in the end, what they remembered the most were the little things. When Ijanaya lived in Tampa she dreamed about pholouri and bake and shark and Banana Solo and boneless chicken roti. The best roots are ones that you can eat and drink, it seems. Now, after all those tense years, all the years of wondering if my children were ever going to like me, let alone love me with all of my faults, I breathe a sigh of relief and think it wasn't so bad. We got through the tough times and I was able to trust them to be themselves in this world. They know they are Trinis. They know they're West Indians, and they are certain that it is good to be an island girl or boy in this big world.
I have always felt that children find their way in life, and if they're passionate about what they're doing they will be happy and successful. That's what I always wanted most of all for them: the gift of confidence. Growing up in Trinidad provided that magic for them. I am sure that Ijanaya already knows that happiness comes in little waves rippling to shore. It is not a tsunami event. Yes, there are awards and rewards-and she has won them in university-but it is mostly the small things that count. We all want our children to be happy all of the time. We want to protect them from hurt and pain and we want to feel that they are bubbling with happiness. But life is not that easy and we can't protect them from everything.
We can only be there in life when they fall and bruise their knees and when they agonise over a test or a boyfriend or what to do with their lives. We can only be there to listen and hope and offer advice-even when it is not wanted. We can't live their lives. We can't solve every crisis. But we can do a lot-like search for Banana Solo when necessary. It doesn't seem like much, but it means the world to a child, big or small, desperately clinging to her roots. When Ijanaya leaves Trinidad for the next chapter in her life, I know she will dream of the days in-between university and her first "real" job in the world when she came home and went to the beach and ate bake and shark and drove around looking for a Banana Solo. She will sigh and remember those good days. This is what I was thinking on that quest to find a Banana Solo.
THOUGHTS
• Never mind that she is 23-years-old now. It feels the same as when she was three-except of course I did not give my three-year-olds sweet drink, not even Banana Solo.
• When Ijanaya lived in Tampa she dreamed about pholouri and bake and shark and Banana Solo and boneless chicken roti. The best roots are ones that you can eat and drink, it seems.
• We can't live their lives. We can't solve every crisis. But we can do a lot-like search for Banana Solo when necessary.