THE  PAIN OF LOSING A LOVED ONE

On several occasions people have been heard to say that, if you love someone so much, you somehow get a connection that enables you to feel when something terrible happens to them. Whether it’s true or not, research will shed some light hopefully soon, but if my life experiences is the litmus test for this then the result would be positive.

On this particular day waking up earlier than usual I went out for my usual morning jog. It was a fairly warm morning and the conditions were perfect for a good jog session of which was anticipated but was not to be. A few minutes into the session, experiencing shortness of breath and blurred vision, a strong sharp pain from my nape cut through my body. Been on a strict diet and a daily two hours exercise routine, am what you could consider healthy, this was very unusual. Other than for the usual checkups where the doctors had always given me a good bill of health, hospital visit were rare. Anxiety and fright took a tool on me not understanding what was happening. The only other time and day this had happened, officially went into the records of my life as the worst day ever. My dear dad had passed on. Sitting by the road side, my heart beating faster and harder than usual, fear got a grip of me and couldn't help but think of the worst. Am I okay? Are my loved ones okay? Many questions ran through my head but couldn't find an answer to any of them.

Wandering what was happening to me, trying hard to be positive amidst all this confusion my phone rang. My sister Sarah, She is what you could describe as very jovial, talkative and always in a good mood. Just what was needed to cheer me up. Answering but with caution, the conversation started without the usual greetings and exchange of pleasantries as it has always been the norm. In a low soft tone she called out my name and asked, “Can you come home now?”  Thought the worst couldn't even utter a single word, something was wrong. Got up, rushed to the house, showered, dressed and left for home. A trip home has always been something to look forward too but not on this day. It was characterized with tension and anxiety as so many things went through my head. Something was wrong that was certain, but what, no idea. Efforts to contact my brother were in futility as my calls to his mobile phone went straight to voice mail. Blood rushed through my veins as a result of the uncertainty of the situation back home.

Once home the usual welcome party of joyful faces of friends and family had been replaced with sad and worried stares, you could tell from their faces that something terrible had happened. Rushing up the staircase that leads to the house, I met my sister. She was weeping and looked beat up and her hair unkempt, this was very weird for someone who believed in good looks and her hair was her first love. Hugging her and enquiring what was happening, all that came out of her were sobs as she continued weeping. Amidst the confusion my eyes filled with tears, things were definitely not okay. Hurriedly getting up, dashed into my mother’s bedroom as it was definite that she would be strong enough to let me know what was wrong. She was not there. Two of my aunties were seated on her bed saying nothing to each other. The silence was terrifying you could have heard a pin drop, saying hi they both turned and nodded without uttering a word. Couldn't hold it anymore and out of frustration burst out and shouted “can someone tell me what is going on!” My aunt held my hand and said to me “I am very sorry, but your mum has gone to be with the Lord.” “What! No! God, why us again? First it was Dad now Mum, why? Don’t we deserve happiness? Are we so bad? Haven’t we been faithful to you? Where did we go so wrong to deserve this?” In tears and disbelief this was all that came out of my mouth. My mother had been shot dead.

 Life seemed to have no meaning anymore. There was no point of living if those I loved the most were gone. I too wanted to die, then maybe just maybe I could be reunited with the ones I loved. I wept and mourned for days, months and years……………………………………………..