It didn’t hit me 2 months ago when I was told she was suddenly ill and was admitted in hospital, it sorta pinched me when I was told she was sent to India for treatment and came back half her size, it started hitting me when I was told it was cancer, it played around in my head when I was told she’s in ICU and nobody can see her, it tore my heart to visit her in hospital and only see her through the glass window where she waved and smiled at me, it finally took its toll on me two days after that when I was told she rested in peace.
Got the call that totally woke me up, it was 9 am, by 9:30 I had gotten in my car and was driving to the funeral house. My heart was pounding, but I was able to compose myself. Still in shock and disbelief at how everything happened so quickly. I reached there and many people had arrived already. Tears were flowing and for the next couple of hours, sadness and sorrow took over the family. Indeed, it was touching and very heart breaking for me to look into her daughters eyes. There was so much I felt I needed to say, but no words could come out. The stronger I held her, the more she cried, so I slowly let go and watched her ease back.
As I got myself comfortable in a corner, I locked my eyes on the ground and allowed my ears to suck in as much of the surrounding sounds as possible and then I looked around…….and observed.
The people:
1. The one who wails and screams and throws herself on the ground…….half an hour later, she’s chatting and giggling.
2. The one who greets you by saying “oh hey…its been a while!! You’re so beautiful”
3. The one just sits there and just stares at everyone, not even giving condolences.
4. The one who asks “so where’s the food?”
5. The one who does not say a word, but sits alone in the room upstairs, away from everyone and just prays.
The rooms:
1. The main hall where everyone gathers, if not in time of prayers, it is full of whispers, and small talks here and there. In a corner, immediate family members are seated together so it is easier for visitors to approach them.
2. The little rooms close to the main hall for the elderly people to have a more comfortable place to stay at, usually having their own conversations which are either of other deaths or people who are not well.
3. The kitchen where all the madness happens! The loudest of all! That is where the person’s life is truly celebrated. It is where the women are remembering the “good old days” in the midst of preparing the feast. They are just so busy and so occupied with what they are doing so joyfully that they block any sound coming from the main hall.
4. The room upstairs. For the most sad, the most in pain, the most torn and the most broken. The quietest of all rooms, you can almost hear a pin drop. You avoid talking in there. It is a time for reflection, a time to thank god for the blessings he had given you and to accept what has happened, pray and move on.
My cousin was a very strong woman with a personality bigger than the world, a total sweetheart, someone who always brought the family together during our good and bad times. Single handedly raised her two children, adopted another two and always catered to her nieces and nephews like they were her own.
Yes cousin A, this blog is dedicated to you, I love you and I will forever miss you. Thank you for always admiring my career, thank you for constantly telling me how much my mother loves me, thank you for always teaching me that family comes first, thank you for making fun of my single life and forever trying to get me married to “this pilot” and “that doctor” and “this nice Swahili boy”, good times, really good times. May your beautiful and clean soul rest in peace. Amen.
