The hand of the mother

I’ve said it before; how much an influence my mother Zepherina, born at Hague as I was, had on me. Like most scenarios where influence is taking place, it was not a formal ‘sit down’ kind of thing.  Looking back on it, there were occasions like that, yes, but most of the time it was not something I was consciously absorbing.  I was obviously noticing her various behaviours, reactions, decisions, situations in our circle, and with other persons outside it, so that over time I received all of this instruction without me being conscious it was happening.

I was a grown man, living in Toronto and setting out on a musical career, before it gradually dawned on me that some of things I would get compliments for had been implanted in me in those years growing up in Hague and later Vreed-en-Hoop from Zepherina’s example. I recognised the process as beginning in those early days in West Demerara, and I also noticed (for the first time in Canada) that many of the things that became pivotal for me, for David, (my mother never called me “Dave”) had come from things I had heard casually emerging from her in the course of everyday conversations.   Apart from one sit-down encounter when I was attending Sacred Heart School in Main Street, to buckle down on my school work, my mother never really ‘preached’ to me.  Her guidance on this ….

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