This weekend (her burial was yesterday); indeed since June 9th when My MC died, I have gone through a roller coaster of sorts with different emotions, some like pain and grief, plummeting so deep and others like sadness, staying there and keeping me alert and contemplative at the whole point of living.
Some even in my close family circles can’t understand why I should feel so deep and get involved so personal. I decided to just blog about it and get this clear and closed once and for all.
My father had lost his both parents by the age of 8, with his mother dying when he the last was barely 2. By age 12, he found himself in the town of Dschang in the Western Region of Cameroon, that is a 45 or so km from our village of Fontem found geographically in the South West Region. Dschang is French speaking whereas Fontem is English speaking. That was no hindrance for this determined orphan whose family couldn’t afford the 20.000 frs (20 £) school fees required for Sasse College where he had been admitted (one out of 5 only from Fontem). He decided to migrate on his own to Dschang and do all it took to work for his upkeep, master that French language and culture in no time, and pay his fees in one of the public schools which cost 1500frs at the time.
One day as fate and faith will have it, MC’s dad who was Divisional Delegate for Education at the time, visited the school dad was, overlooked into dad’s neat book, marveled at his meticulous handwriting and admired the way his hand shot up to answer questions or ask same. He decided that day he was going to adopt dad and sent a note to dad’s family to that effect. Dad told me he didn’t even send the note, he was ready to move in with one I fondly called ‘Grand pere’ the very next day lol.
My dad clearly owes just so much to this Angel, his family and all. Dad was taken in as a first child, and the couple later on had 8 children with MC being the 7th. Although nearly 2 years older, as I said I didn’t know nor could be bothered.
MC and I did stuffs teens (mischief ones especially) do, including talking about and exploring our sexuality. If that isn’t profound what is? When her dad my ‘Grand Pere’ died in July 2009, I was so heavily pregnant with Gaby I wasn’t even allowed to go into his room at the hospital to bid him farewell. He had insisted dad come in all the way from Fontem to Douala to see him and dad had picked me up on arrival so we go see him together. Shortly after dad arrived, ‘Grand Pere’ I was told looked at dad, nodded, touched his hand and then drew his last breathe.
I didn’t attend his burial either, Gaby was just a week old. Now, before this all, the last time I had gone to Dschang was when I was around 15 years. Life’s twists and turns came and we all went to town and life continued to happen. Keeping in touch was henceforth by phone etc.
3 weeks before MC died, Dad was in Dschang and I decided to go check on him. It was you can tell a soulful home coming. I still have to write about the visit. I prayed for MC on ‘Grand Pere’s’ grave but I guess the dice had been cast – she had endured too much already and couldn’t even talk… Am so glad I reached out to her that weekend with all the love I had and could show in my modest way…
The above should make it clear once and for all why I felt the grief so deep. It was like going to mourn for both ‘Grand Pere’, MC and her two other siblings gone ahead some years earlier at different intervals.
The good news is that, I found healing and closure right there at the burial – so glad I braved it to go. I did stuff I liked like washing the dishes (which is a huge thing at gatherings like this – hence really appreciated) and that was so self soothing, and then I went and spent an hour with MC where she was laid (3,45 am – 4,45 am). I prayed, meditated, read scripture passages on meditation, and listened in silence to MC remind me that life ain’t to be lived in the past participle (as she loved saying). The meditation was also on spot from James Allen: “Who can mend a broken Vase by weeping over it”?.
And so for closure, it is well with my soul. I equally traveled back home safely, and although I haven’t slept properly for 3 straight days, am grateful for the sleep in shifts in the night bus and at the wake. I will make it up gradually… The weekend before was equally partially spent at another burial, the only sibling to a dear school mate…arg life…
It is important in my modest opinion to deal and heal in every circumstance and to do it the way which works best for you. It is therapeutic to Feel your Feelings, Face your Fears and embrace the journey with fortitude and gratitude.
On this note, I cherish MC’s spirit of exuberance and love, I celebrate our memories and am filled with gratitude for knowing her thanks to the largesse of her Angel of a dad who made of my dad the man he is today… Cousin or not, whatever label it is, MC was a soul sister…
Be inspired and motivated us all, happy Sunday everyone
P.s: a brief of my timeline on return home, to inspire and motivate
6 am arrive home
7-9.30 am sleep
10.12.30 pm clean up and cook
3.30 pm – 4.15pm session with client
4.30 – 6 pm power walk for welcome home. I feel so great and know I’ll have a very good and peaceful sleep