TWO TEARS IN A BUCKET

TWO TEARS IN A BUCKET
Let us just say, I am not utterly ready for what I am about to write. But that’s okay, I got this. Oh wait, do I though? This is different, I feel different. It’s been different. It will always be different. I mean, how could it not when the one piece that was holding the whole set together has been removed? Well, nonetheless, I am okay. Oh wait, okay is one of those words people use to sparkle over a deeper truth. I swear I am not trying to splash glitter on a cypress tree and then call it a Christmas tree. I am okay because I am not ready for my truth.
Truth! Now, isn’t that the most controversial word on earth? Let’s put aside sexuality and religion. Truth is a matter of perspective and if I am to be perfectly candid, very relative. Depending on where you are standing. That brings you to me. Well, that sounds wrong, but you get the point. My truth is; I am standing at the edge of a lake not knowing how thin the ice is and if I can cross over. That is my truth! Yes, that is my truth! 
Fyyyuuuuuuxxxx!!!!!It feels so much better to say that out loud. But what doesn't feel better is my heart. It is still heavy and overwhelming. I feel like I am struggling to float while my body is willingly sinking. Paradox or Irony, you call it. What I know, lately I feel like modern art. Not classic and detailed like the kind in The Louvre, but more of street art, like Mr. Rager in Entergalactic. Oh damn! I have become one of those people who relate feeling to movies.
Time to address the elephant in the room. Loss. Not any kind of loss, but my loss. The one I haven’t been able to process for 6 months now. Don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t suck as much as it did on May 25th when I found out about it, but sometimes it creeps inside me and shatters me all over again. Oh wait, I didn’t tell you what it was. How do they put it in her favorite radio station?“Tunasikitika kutangaza kifo cha …”
Weeeeehhhhh!I need a minute. Just one more minute to feel everything. I told you it comes in waves. It is taking everything in me not to squeeze my eyes shut and burst into a chorus of a thousand curses and tears. But boy! Everything in me is stringing tightly like I've had a rope tied around my wrists, my ankles. The imaginary restraints pull, chafing my skin in a way that doesn't feel so imaginary. No, I am feeling it all—the sensation of being dragged in opposite directions whilst moving nowhere at all. But time heals all wounds, no?
Time! I am going to add that to my relativity scale. Sometimes it feels like everyone has their shit together. Like they have moved on and found a way to live with our loss.  somehow, I cannot. I mean, I am no longer crying myself to sleep or thinking about her every waking moment. But Jesus of Nazareth knows I miss her. I miss her singing, her telling her to stop bothering her, her bitter vegetables (which to be honest, I barely enjoyed. I ate out of love. The things we do for love, right?) Her endless stories, I mean we attribute that to her 91 years on earth. You'd think 91years is a ripe old age and letting her go would be easier than if she was 1 year. But let me tell you maina! You can never have enough time with the ones you love. The more time you spend together, the more you wish for extra time. 
Anyways, life has been different! I didn't get a call on my birthday, I don't have someone to talk mother tongue with, and I don't have someone to motivate me to get married hehehe. That’s silly; but dear future husband, if you ever read this, just know my grandmother wanted several blankets and made me promise you and I would be rich. So come prepared to fulfill two decades worth of a promise. 
The truth is, as much as the memories occasionally hurt, they are a legacy. They make me feel alive and happy and part of a timeless era. I can't talk about her without having a bittersweet combination of feelings in my heart and head. Letting her go is a work in progress. I have days when it's easy peasy and I have days my mind and heart are so fucking messy and we know what that does to my eyes! What can I say, I am allergic to my emotions hehehe. That’s on denial 
But back to acceptance; this is supposed to be heavy. This is meant to be felt. This is expected to be difficult. It is designed to knock you down and you ought not to get up immediately. There is no timeline for healing or manual for dealing with the loss of a loved one. Even if there was, it would not have helped. It is your; oh wait, it is my loss. How I work on it and move on is one of the few things that is in my jurisdiction. Do I know what I am supposed to do? HELL NO! Am I doing something about it? DEFINITELY.
This life is not a bed of roses. It has and will always have thorns along the way. Loss of loved ones just happens to prick a little bit more. The permanence of that is scary. But one thing is for sure, even though darkness lasts the night, there will be light in the morning. Do what makes you happy! Scratch that, do what makes you sane enough to live through the day. Happiness would find you along the way! That's the plus side of healing. Meanwhile, BREATHE! BREATHE AND BREATHE! Like your life depends on it; for it sure as hell does. 

In loving memory of 

Sabeti Khaoya

11 May 1931-25 May 2022

In the end, losing you has left a huge hole in my heart that I do not know how to live with. I guess you were right; "Daktari amenipima sina ugonjwa, ni mapenzi yanisumbua.” I am currently numb, I hope the healing touch of good memories, love, and laughter will come my way. Until then, rest in peace wandase. Mwana wa mayi, kenda bulayi nomwami

BY FAVOR KHAOYA

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