Whop! Whop!! Birthday Rants?
I remember crying at the early hours of her birthday. Not because I remembered the pains she bore until her death (that always tears me up) but because I really did miss her.
Swiping back and forth the pictures, paying more attention to the picture of the pink ankara dress she made for me, that I found soothing. We were standing side by side, smiling. Life seemed promising.
I didn't mourn for too long, I channeled the energy to celebrating her life instead. I dodged the bullet.
I was good. I was fine. I was editing a life project, critically analyzing life in between. "Puff of air, puff of air..." The only thought that resonated.
Amidst the hustle and tussle, nobody will get out alive? Mtcheecheeew, I involuntarily made an outstretched hiss.
The next day came, it was a long day. From trying to make a little money earlier in the day, on to attending church proper and then the meeting thereafter. I was fatigued.
I soon returned home, unwinding through social media. I ought to have been sleeping, but sleep wouldn't come. "Let me read a book'', I thought to myself. I couldn't express any emotion. And I didn't like to feel that way. It made me seem inhuman.
I open Toke Makinwa's "On Becoming". I had read it in the past. It seemed like entertainment to me. Maybe because it was trending. But this time was different.
Word for word, line by line, the first four chapters sunk. Alas! I was beginning to stir up an emotion. "This is pain in black and white,'' I pondered. An amplified version of pain.
How could one watch mother and father burn beyond recognition, lose the two house helps, graduate to losing a sister, not to mention the possession that was cremated and still look glam on Instagram? "Nawa o, people dey!'' I soliloquized.
I heaved a deep sigh of relief, thanked God for everything and continued with my book. But this time, another book.
#Miss you Mum #Love you Mum #I Choose To Celebrate Your Life Instead
Happy Birthday Mother! #LemonToLemonade #June10 #JuneBaby #JuneBehaviour