Monday, 14 July 2014


Not so long ago, during idle hours at an office where I worked, an idle topic was what was killing the hours. Every other day there was a new topic, a different one, always thought-provoking. It was somewhat problematic to categorize this genre of talk, I did try to, and for your sake I will say it hung loosely above Gossip but at the same time involved some intelligence, I know it doesn’t make much sense but that is as good as it gets.

On this particular day apparently, the topic was death. Death is a matter I will openly say I do not have much clue in. By that, I mean I do not have first-hand experience about how the bereaved feel about the whole situation. I do not know what exactly to say, but from my familiarity with other kinds of losses I do know in the first stages of grieving you should not be quick to tell someone the dreaded “Just accept it and move on”. 

The people I have lost in my life that I would term as close happened very long ago, when I was about 12, and I did not really understand the real meaning of loss, as long as I had my mother, daddy and siblings, I was okay. The last burial I attended was around the same time, I had lost my great grandfather. I did not cry or feel any pain, I had only met the guy a countable number of times, and I remember his age always amazed me so much.  

When someone close to me lost a person, all I could manage were a few words of encouragement and being a good listener, I was always ready to listen. I knew it was an agonizing thing, I just did not know how much…up until a few days ago.

“Gerty if you lost your husband, where would you want him buried?” *of course a hypothetical scenario*

“I don’t think I would care much what happens to his body. I have lost him, his presence, his soul, what mattered most.”

“But don’t you think you would want to see him buried in a special place?”

“I don’t know. Does it matter?”

That was, of course, met with a few dis-approvals and an awkward silence. It did matter, I just did not know how or why. 

In all honesty, in my life, I have thought about what it would be like to lose someone close. It is always a heart-wrenching thought, you can actually hear your heart breaking a little with it. In my thoughts about it, I always figured when they’re gone they’re gone, I never clearly understood the whole concept of 'farewell'.

It’s been barely one week and it still hurts, only that I cannot weep anymore. With each passing day I move from the state of disbelief and not being able to comprehend to celebrating and appreciating the years we have had with you. Tears do come and they do flow when I remember the times we shared together, the things that I could hardly even remember surprisingly make their way back into my mind. The more I think about it the more I want more than anything for you to have that special farewell. To see you for one last time, look at you and smile and give thanks to God for all that you were. This coming week will be full of moments, memories, even more tears but our hearts will finally be elated when we finally say the last goodbye and let you rest. 

We loved you and still love you.

Mostly, we will miss you.
In all turmoil, we are not alone. Christ Jesus is with us.

DISCLAIMER: Please do not comment with encouraging words or RIPs, Infact I would prefer this post to remain without any comments. Thanks.


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Everyone has 24 hours a day, difference is how you use it up. I am a cocktail of a lady who loves art and is tech-savvy.

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