For a life lived with so much memories to hold on to, death feels too final…
11.06.13 – the day my father died.
At every thought of this my heart aches. How did I choose that day to pretend I was asleep when he walked in to wake me up for school?
When my brother graduated secondary school, my father took it upon himself to wake me up so I’d not run late; one of the perks of being the last born.
We could say Nigeria happened to my father because if just one person had picked him up earlier at the accident scene, if he had gotten quicker medical response, he might have lived till this day…
Ten years later, my heart still aches at the unkind way he left this cruel world. He must have felt helpless. I bet he was thinking about me and how I’d cope without him. That man was my gee. I could even swear I was his favourite.
He loved me and I knew it, he spoilt me. He really took liberties with me, I had a father who ‘consulted’ me before making rules in the house.
And just like that, he left.
My world stopped…
Since then, I’ve lived in this constant fear of losing the people I love dearly.
When Jeff died, I was numb. I would leave my house off campus to sleep in lecture theatres on campus because I just wanted to be around people. It never made sense to me that that very fine boy died at 16?
If this makes you feel somehow, I’m sorry. I do not mean to dampen your spirit.
I am not writing, I’m talking to you; asking you, how do you cope with loss?
Does grief ever end? How do you hold on to the memories of them without a bleeding heart?
How do you live brightly on days when you can’t stop imagining what life would have been with them, if only death didn’t snatch them away?
How do you love someone wholeheartedly without being afraid they’d go away?
Today when the preacher said the last enemy to be defeated was death, my heart leaped for joy.
That one day, this very mean guy that captures those we love will be dealt with. Wow! What a glorious day it’ll be!
