Aunties are like stars; you can’t always see them, but you know they are always there.
When I was younger I didn’t know who was my mom; many times I always referred to my auntie as my mom, because I spent a greater part of my childhood with her.
After my mom gave birth to me; her heart started failing her and she lived in the hospital for more than six years.
During those moments my auntie took it in her to clothe, feed, nurture, and take care of me. I grew up to call her mom, but she never stopped telling me that she isn’t my mom, that if God permits I would meet the wonderful woman who birthed me.
She never for once saw me as a liability as she was still single and had a life to live. She became a mother for my course and took care of me to the best of her knowledge.
She never missed my school functions throughout my stay in school. When I was called out as the best student and was asked to call it my mom; I walked up to her and presented her as my mother.
When my mom was finally fit and was back to her fit; I was returned to my biological mother. Home was somehow hell as I didn’t see it as my home, I wanted my aunt back.
When I cried my aunt knows how best to soothe me and knows my favorite food when I get sick; it was hard staying with my mom, but it was worth living.