Last year, same date, same horrid harmattan, Just when I was preparing to come visit you…I got that ill-fated call of your demise.
I had to receive visitors. Twas just me, the others were away, and the parents. I stood there with tear-stained eyes as people tried to console us. I wanted to tell them it was futile, that they should keep their bible quotes and ‘afmag’ lines to themselves but I just stared into space.
I remember someone warning me not to cut myself off from people. She had lost someone she loved and I had tried to play the role she now found herself playing. People have tried to be ‘there’ for me…instead I found the shell I lost in my early teens.
Going back to school was hard, I wasn’t ready. staying off school was definitely my best bet. First day in school and I was already breaking down. I saw you-know-who, the one I said reminded me of you from back in secondary school. As I stood there, exchanging pleasantries, I had to fight back the force threatening to unmask my emotions. I made a quick escape. she didn’t notice. I think I successfully masked it all after that slip, i wasn’t interested in anyone’s sympathy.
My grades suffered a bit that semester, more like a loss in focus really. I just couldn’t see why i had to work my ass off if i couldn’t control the one thing that guaranteed tomorrow, life itself.
After a while people forget your loss, its okay…but it becomes annoying when they expect you to forget too. Throwing myself into my career has been helpful in keeping my mind occupied, though they say its too early to decide what your career is in my field…i’m enjoying the present challenge. I still wonder if somehow you hinted me over ice-cream the day before while we made plans that your time was up. Maybe you had tried to warn me somehow that i was seeing you for the last time and i would have to make do without a sister for my remaining days.
I miss you.