6:45 am: It just happened and I didn’t have the heart to take her picture nor see where she’s being hurried or taken too. The boys are going to do that.
I cried with Gaby my last son, David who seemed to love her most, and on whose bed she died, just hugged me so tight. I hope he processes that too.
We are having a family meeting shortly, and oh Ella will be past tense now.
I grieve by reading and writing, so what else can I do now?
We had Ella for exactly 2 years+few days, my heart aches, I just got her a tray of eggs two days ago and I saw her this morning as ran to David’s bed, but she had poo and maybe thrown up and something just told me this is it. I was called to see her fretting and throwing up some more, and in no time she was gone.
Whenever you are attached to a person or pet (these especially who love you unconditionally), their death is like a part of you paralysed.
Oh life and love and all these emotions which only last but for a fleeting…
Bye bye Ella, for all the love and joy and everything in between…we’ll be missing you…
That was in Paris on none other than Valentine’s day 2014. How can I forget that day, when I had so wanted to leave my gentleman alone and instead come spend it with you and family in Paris? When I got to Belgium and settled down, of course my first out of country visit was to you. We laughed when I narrated how it was a ‘Paris a tout prix trip’ (Paris at all cost), because I was prepared to hitch hike if I din’t find a car share online very fast…
Ah My MC, we were as thick as thieves growing up. I didn’t even know you were almost 2 good years older than me.
You taught me so much especially concerning guys. Yes, no shame to say it now, you taught me how to give a wet kiss – what a practical lesson that was. Now you are gone before I did a post about you my heroine par excellence…
Aw My MC, we last spoke in April and you assured me in that same voice I have always none, that you were trying your best and that C wasn’t going to get you. I mean not after barely half a decade plus 1 in marriage right? What is my beau to do with those two toddlers now?
Oh death, oh life, oh my…
My MC forever in my soul till my own time is up … Thank you for all, I am so grateful I could show you barely 10 days ago with my token, how much I loved you
p:s I lost my… (words fail to describe my MC) this 7 am and yes am still in some sort of shock. Writing steadies some trembling, I will be ok eventually because love is eternal and I need not view death as fearful. The pain is what threatens to numb
Thank you for all sympathy and prayers for the entire family
This may be a weird poem, but It is a poem and honestly one of my best – am grateful for the inspiration; I think I’ll make it stick to my front page forever and when I do leave, leave your comments on this post. Death is for real, face it or not, think about it or not, wish it or not, avoid it or not, it’s the passage even for the US President. I wrote a small chapter on my fear of dying in my last memoir, check it out
If & when you hear am dead
Mourn not for me
am gone where I’ve long dreamt of
alas that’s our ride
think about you more than me
If & when you read am dead
smile because I say so
I have tried my best and wrote it all
The good, bad & ugly have I lived
I am grateful for the time I had
And for all I met
If & when you see am dead
you may as well envious be
I have been envious of them too
all those gone ahead to toil no more
this life takes a toll
sometimes the mind loses it all
If & when you feel am dead
don’t wish I weren’t
some actually die still living
physical death ain’t not the worse
Maybe just maybe life after now is for real
This and other poems are in a poetry book I am finalizing to offer the universe for free by the end of this month. Stay tuned and have a nice weekend people. Take care of your mental wellbeing
Hello world, My Biological clock is ticking (turn 38 next week by Grace); and peace is my number one top priority at all times now. I admit to having several broken pieces in my life – heck still do so much and they sometimes just poke up and make me bawl my eyes out all over again. I was thus very excited to pick up this other soulful memoir by Iyanla Vanzant one of my all time favorite – No nonsense authors. I mean, I cried again when I read one of her other power books titled Yesterday I Cried – Here, you can find my review of that one. I have had it for almost two years now but I guess it wasn’t time for a review. I even mentioned the book in my own personal journey touncovering the source of my peace.
When I look at my notes from the book, I can share some of the most poignant I made:
…I didn’t know anything about rebound relationships. I didn’t know that it takes a respectable amount of time for one person to get over another person and come to a place of completion… (Neither did I and it’s barely 3 months I finally knew and got there);
…One powerful lesson I learned from him was that just because a man is a good man, it does not mean that he knows how to be a good partner ( my comment on that note says it all: woah, similar to what l wrote about mine);
When two broken people bring their broken pieces together, chances are they will never become a whole anything. (very high chances I think too);
Unworthiness always puts you in debt to anyone and everyone who shows you the slightest degree of attention or love or energy. Eventually, in this form of bankrupt relationship, your benefactors will demand or expect more than you are able or willing to give. This is the precise moment they will choose to call in the loan; (I can relate 99.99%);
When you do not believe that who you are and what you do is good enough, that message will contaminate everything you do. When doubt is present in your consciousness it indicates a much more profound problem. It is a story that we tell ourselves about who we are and what we do and do not deserve in life. Your personal lie is a function of all of the broken pieces of your puzzle—all of the elements of your history, all of your experiences, all that you have been taught about yourself merging with all that you have made up about yourself.
And now three lessons she shared which helped her find peace amidst all those broken pieces
Until and unless you know that you are enough just the way you are, you will always be driven to look for more. Knowing that you are enough is a function of consciousness. Your enough-ness develops in direct proportion to the relationship you have with your true identity. Until you wholeheartedly believe in your own worth, in spite your of accomplishments and possessions, there will be a void in your Spirit. I had more than a void. (here is my comment: this is what l wanted);
When you are starting your life over, with a new sense of self, who you once were is going to challenge you. Who you once were is going to dangle old carrots, old wounds and issues, in front of your face. When that happens, you will be tempted to revert to old feelings, old patterns of thought, and old patterns of behavior. When, however, you have made up your mind that the old you is dead and buried, when you have embraced a certain level of clarity about who you are and are not, as well as who you are choosing to be, you have a different response;
“When you can tell the story and it doesn’t bring up any pain, you know it is healed.” (I got there Amen)
This really is the best way I can review this book – I broke down again so sourly two days ago, and bawled myself to instant sleep just where I was – I got up and with so much unconditional love and support – I decided to stick by the new response to ME and my Life. A big gratitude among others to Iyanla Vanzant and memoirs of hers like this one. I can’t rate this book any less than a 5/5: written in such down to earth english – so personal – so fine to read without a break.
About the Author
There isn’t anything I can say about Iyanla which isn’t everywhere and I mean including on O. here is a snipet from her website:
“What I have learned from all of the difficulties in my own life is that human beings have very thick skin. I call that skin, spirit, our Highest Most Powerful self. Spirit is the key to everything we desire. It is our weather-proofing, our Teflon, our line of credit that assures if we just keep putting one foot in front of the other, one day; there will be a miraculous payoff.”
Visit herwebsite and there you’ll find all the links you need to that great woman described as: ” one who embodies a no-nonsense approach in her message and teaching style. Outspoken, fiery, transparent, truthful, and sage-like”.
Dear World, Another year is drawing to an end and I am still thinking how it started. In January this year, I was actually planning on moving into my own home and taking my boys to live with me, and this was a daunting project to say the least. Thanks very largely to the emotional support of my few but precious friends especially you out here on the blogosphere, I safely made that transition.
The above and several other reasons and scenarios, have come to confirm that saying to me: You my friends (my e-family as I have so fondly called you), are really part of my soul family: Indeed, unlike my birth family which I never chose, I chose each and everyone of you. I chose you because I had a choice not to. When I decide to chose a friend, I am very aware of what is at stake. Even when someone choses me, I have that choice not to reciprocate.
I therefore wanna sincerely thank you all my friends – my dear e-family (yes I barely have a palm full of offline friends – not to be confused with my throng of acquaintances) oh my, who can I name? Captain – Lady Dyane, Junie my dearest, Pammy sweet Pammy, Bradley of Bipolar Bear, Blah diaries of such sweet/sour memories … I can’t go on… such unconditional friendship – something deeper and redder than blood flowing in my veins when I think or reach out to you …
I wish us all so so much well – Life is so short, each day we learn of a death – sometimes more than one – I just wanna try my best till it’s my turn …
And now over to you: Do you agree friends could be the family we chose for ourselves? Any experiences you may wish to share?
I leave today for home once more. I do not return in joy to see my boys like I did two months earlier – oh no, I return to lay my love and hero to rest.
Herewith is the Funeral Mass for Gabriel, (contains his bio, our eulogies and a media gallery of sorts) for any interested in reading some more about him while I prepare to publish his book come November.
It may be just 5 days since the demise of my brother, oh whose brother? l knew my brother had several challenges because I was there when it all started several years back. I just didn’t know what exactly all those were called or how to properly help him out until … too late now right?
Thus, my descent into Limbo and my attempt at keeping grip on to the vessel of sanity has been simply put ‘oscillating’. I even foolishly though this evening that I was ‘in control of this mourning period’.
Now I know, that I am not yet fully in control but that I am getting there. Keeping mt brother’s memory and legacy on in me and via all works I plan to undertake, is hence another of my passion’s. But, In the Meantime, I grieve his sudden departure – ha, the tsunami!
At least, I am grieving out and not in, and it seems to help. You may wonder what experience I have to make such assertion. Of course, only deaths give you those and I have had a pretty small ugly share. I know what it is to bury a child (no matter the age) and I know that, that ‘vacuum Cleaner’ will forever roam in the neighbourhood of your heart.
What I now think is right about grieving out, is that it helps and heals. When I lost my daughters (via a miscarriage and the other at just a day old), I never grieved out. Common, in my society, you are expected to ‘hush’ such episodes because they might as well have been ‘evil spirits’ passing your way. Grieving them may bar you from having others. You have to get back to your ‘gestation’ very fast.
But now, I am grieving out and wow. I rant, I cry, I threaten to die too, and I calm down. I talk to people, especially those who have ‘Walked this unceremonious path’. I do a lot of meditation and I take it easy on myself as much as possible. Hey, I even renewed my gym vows
(suspended two years ago on my return from Arusha), and even the sweat seems to blend with the grief, facilitating its exist.
However, as I slept this night, I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe well. I got up and sat of course infront of the PC. Checking my emails and ever watchful of phone calls and notifications is now permanently on my ‘to do list’. And I know it is ok not to be able to continue sleeping but to do what I am currently doing. I am writing this post and then I will make some more calls. Maybe I will also get to write another chapter of my brother’s book.
I talk to him about my grieving, I even ask for his advice. I try to imagine how he in his usual way, will always want to help out in spite of his own ‘bleedings’. Trust me, I know, I have been there and I still do that. It is well, it is right, to grieve out and in so doing, I have gotten so much support than I would have ever gotten otherwise. Thank you all.
I wasn’ expecting a visitor at such a late hour! Oh no, I wasn’t expecting that many phone calls either. I have trouble sleeping sometimes, but when I fall asleep, I sleep off like a log for as long as it lasts. So when I got up to go to the Loo at 5 am and didn’t look immediately at my phone as I normally do, I felt suspicious of that new attitude. Maybe it was saving me from piercing my apartment with the kind of scream I later unleashed?
You all know this fellow needs no invitation. You all know he cares not about a phone call. Indeed, he doesn’t ask his host or their family if they are prepared for him. He is self sufficient. I think he knows the might of his stink.
It is so hard for me to write this post, but I must do it so as stay in control of my trembling. This fellow has visited me before. He robbed me of the only daughter I would have had. She was just a day old. Now he stops by again, robbing me of the one person I fought physically and emotionally for other than myself. Yes you can all guess, I mean my brother. The two posts on him can be refreshed here and here.
I equally once went to a funeral and I got this poem, an extract of which I will reproduce here while acknowledging the source:
(Poem written by Mary O’Higgins-Mooney, April 2014) She died that same April and it was at her funeral that I first witnessed a cremation ceremony. I don’t know why I kept to the poem and had even since toyed with the idea of writing mine.
“Welcome the foreign, the unknown; Try not to reckon or to judge;Alert the eyes and open ears;To all that’s mystic, marvel, new
The furrowed brow, the wrinkled skin; A demonstration of within; But such is life and so is death; ‘Twere never one escaped it yet”
I grieve for my mum above all. My brother is gone after spending almost half of his life with several ailments raging from Bi-Polar, eating disorders, Schizo… and what else. I am struggling to keep ahead of my issues too. They won’t get me because I am so determined to fight them. The triggers, the stigma, the meds and their ugly side effects and all.
Until my own day dawns, I will keep on… thanks for all the condolence wishes I will get. This week is a week of mourning, so no posts and hope you understand.