This is one piece that I appreciate the fact that I won’t be able to contain tears as I write. This piece is an insight of how I have had to deal with grief of losing my dad and brother. I always know that I might have healed, am healing of trying to heal from the loses but one thing I know, it has not been an easy journey.
My dad passed on when I was only 6 years. As young as I was I was so affected. It not the kind of pain I feel today. Then it was different. It was more of what I would miss from my dad. The goodies, the adoration and above all the protection. It was always good to tell any person who hurt me that I knew dad would deal with them. I felt alone. Being widowed at only 32 years and left in care of my siz (3years) and bro (2years), I was to content with the fact that I was to majorly look out for myself. I had to learn the hard way of not only standing up for myself but also my siblings at a very tender age. I fast learnt to me my mum’s wing-man. I clearly rem barely a few weeks after the burial of my dad, one of my uncles found my cousins and I on the usual cantankerous escapades. The beating I received was one of a kind, something that opened my eyes that dad was no more. I had no man to stand up for my family or at least me. Being same age as one of his sons, I expected the *discipline* action to be similar but in the animal kingdom, some animals are more equal than others.
As I grew up, the missing aspect changed into longing and bitterness. The longing of a fathers love. The longing of his assurance and love. I craved his hug. Every time I saw some father hug a daughter, I have never stopped crying. It’s sometimes just hard to bear that even after 18 years; I just wish I had a dad to share all my fears. Sometimes it’s so hurting that I have to recoil to sticking in the house and just see no one. It hurts me to see fathers treating their daughters tenderly when I haven’t known what feels is like. I can NEVER question God about it. There is no time that one can say it’s fair for someone to die. I know many pals of mine who are older than me and have never known their dads, and they are okay. As for me, am not okay. It’s not okay. It has never been okay. I stumbled on Pastor Simon Mbevi’s blog . It gives so much into what a dad is. The benefits /roles of a dad in a child’s growth. This is very true. That hug, is all that might have calmed me down when I thought the world was crumbling down on me.
It’s always astonishing to me when a single mum chooses voluntarily to have a baby and deny him/her a chance of a willing father. That’s my opinion. It’s something that I would never wish any innocent soul to go through; an absent father. I still stick to my basic teaching of what a family is. A father, mother and children. I know there are exceptions that one may not be able to have a parent or both but if the situation allows you as a parent to, are present for your kid. Whether a mother of father. Especially for young children, it feels good to have your parent/s see you excel at the school sports day, to be in the hall when you get the first award , to see you go through puberty , to call and check on you if you stay away from home , to be corrected . The family Sunday lunches and the special dinners. When you introduce your fiance/e to the family, the first baby … the list is endless. It’s sad my dad never saw all this, except my first day at school , six birthdays and five Christmas barbecues .
Fast forward , after years of laughter in between tears , hope in the hopeless situation , upbeats when the body gives way , we are all excited that it’s only a month before the baby who had turned to be the *man* of the household ids bye to teenaghood, the life boat is rocked severely . No sickness, no signs of the strained breadth; just a sudden loss of a very promising life. The death of my brother might have been the motivating factor behind this post. on the 3rd of April , 2014 when I got the call that he was no more , I did what many would have thought was weird. I froze all emotions, feelings and thoughts. In the middle of somewhere at tea room, commercial bus terminus, I knew this was going to be a hard one. While everyone else in the family is making frantic calls to know if my bro was in hospital, here I am, barely 24years receiving a call that my only brother and the best man, friend was no more. I knew I had to do what I have done always; stand up for the family. It wasn’t easy seeing hos lifeless body at the morgue, or trying to feel his pockets against his cold body. Laying my favorite pair of jeans was my brother, so peaceful. I can’t lie that it was a painful experience. No it was not. In fact I felt nothing. I had no pain, no break down. Just nothing. It was not easy to see people cry, my uncle turning speechless, my siz breaking down or my friend Lisa being strong for me. I did not know that days to come would be harder. I was there, did all I could during the mourning period but I did not have the pain.
I knew it was not gonna be easy when I felt so bad leaving home even for a few minutes after his burial. I felt so bad being free to move when my little brother was confined and suffocated by earth for the rest of time. It was harder to resume duty. 8 months on, and I realize that am just human. Little by little my emotions are now giving way to grieving, it’s harder than I thought. Sometimes everything is okay. The next day all you want to do is turn up the music, run to the shower and cry my heart out. Since then I always sleep when traveling past Nakuru . Too many bitter memories in that town.
Since we shared t-shirts and shorts, I find it hard to take off anything we shared. I am always sneaking trying to look at his photos. There a few questions I may have loved to be answered by the university but as a family we decided bygones are bygones. I imagine that now he would have only 3 semesters to graduate. The plans we had. The grown-ups only family we had become. I miss my brother. I don’t know when this pain will go away but when it hurts most, I turn by bitter song into a prayer, though am not always strong to utter a lot, all I have always said is, JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL.