Healing
Lisha Murphy
Mum never kissed us growing up
Instead she would nuzzle her nose into my cheek
Give us a sniff, breathe us in
That was her kiss
Guava and mango trees bore witness to my childhood
The land was fruitful
Yet we starved
I remember looking up at the sky wanting to fly away
Further than my chinelas had ever travelled
But my feet were rooted to the ground
Stuck
Watching everyone else leave
It was just the two of us
Surviving like stray cats
I think about this now
Now that I am a mother
I live a life of abundance
Overflowing plates
And free affection
I spoil my sons with a bounty of kisses
Being their mum is healing me of all the things I tried to forget
Sometimes I feel I haven’t run far enough
That it will all catch up with me
The life we left behind
I am haunted by the hunger I felt
And I pray my sons will never know it
So I try to be the mother I always wanted
Unbroken and whole
Everyday I try
Even though sometimes I feel stuck
My feet still buried in that dirt
I have to remind myself
We left
And I have grown
And I am thankful that I broke the cycle
Thankful that I have learnt to give what I
never received
She loved me the best way she knew how
I know that now
She loved me in her quiet ways
In the way she would brew calamansi tea
Fragrant and healing
Not too sweet and not too bitter
The perfect timpla
Warm
Soothing from the inside out
And I’m thankful
Thankful that she broke the cycle
Thankful that she learnt to give what she
never received
Born in the Philippines, Lisha Murphy has both bitter and sweet memories of her childhood in the motherland. Now living, loving and mothering in Naarm, she remembers those days more and more and it has inspired her writing and healing. Lisha is a published poet and has been writing a memoir based on the first seven years of her life in the Philippines.