My friend is gone 😭

Yesterday I learnt that someone dear to me had passed on. I knew that the situation was difficult—she had a heart condition—but I hoped that a miracle would make her live and enjoy the love of her children and husband. There was no miracle. There was no last minute answered prayer.

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Pixabay

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I am grieving not just her passing but also, the inevitability of death. The older I grow, the more people I know die. It is only in childhood that one is invincible and it seems like every wound will heal. It is when you grow old and discover complete freedom, then you find out some wounds never heal and sometimes, these wounds kill.

My friend was a fun, vivacious personality. She was smart and kind as well. Whenever I visited her before she fell sick, we would talk nonstop. The last time I went there, she only asked me to put on the fan for her. We could not talk. I just looked at her struggle. I just looked on.

I think one aspect of grief that I have not really being able to come to terms with is guilt. You feel as if you should have done something, said something to prevent the inevitable from happening. Maybe I should have called more, maybe I should have settled our differences, maybe… It makes it hurt more. It is as if you are creating fresh pain out of nothing.

This grief has weakened me though. Unlike other situations, where the passing occured quite suddenly and one can hope that they didn't suffer, my friend had a difficult time and I knew of it, I saw it, I tried not to think about it. It hits different, you know. You wonder about a lot of things.

I have not been able to sleep since. I have been thinking, wondering about the possibilities that would have existed if a certain direction was taken. For example, my friend wanted, desperately, to leave Nigeria. She kept applying for a visa to get her and her family out of the country. Each time her request was denied. If she had been granted the visa to leave her country, she would have gotten better medical care and would be alive today.

Maybe she won't have the money to pay but the option would be available. She would know that she can be considered if push comes to shove. In Nigeria, she had little or nothing of hope. I wonder how people with health conditions that need 24 hrs medical conditions cope in this country. I wonder how they face each day.

If I had foresight, the last time I visited my friend, I would have asked her to write something for her children, something for them to remember her with. I think there's a difficulty among my people to accept death. There's always so much preparation for the healthy return from the hospital even when the situation is dire. There's almost no preparation by the dying to say goodbye in their own terms.

I thought about this all through yesterday; the children, will they remember their mother's voice? Will they remember her laughter, or how she walked, or how she played. Will they remember to miss her? They are young and time blurs everything. The thought made me think of putting something together in case I have to leave as sudden as a flash flood.

I have not been able to see my friend's husband. We do not live in the same city. I had plans to go visiting this coming week but time waits for no one. I have been trying to reach the man on the phone but his lines are switched off. I hope he is coping well. I hope he is gentle on himself. I hope he finds happiness.

I don't want to be going to funerals of young people like me. It makes eating or working hard. What is the point of all these pursuit, all these attempts at success? What is the purpose of money if it can not buy you a comfortable and long life? What is the purpose if you cannot use it to help those who are in need? We work from January to December, almost everyday and at the end, casually, death takes everything. It makes no sense.

It is when you are in need you realise how cold the world is. I am reminded of Timaya's song Cold Outside, in which he featured Buju. The lyrics says;

Make nobody tell me nonsense my n *** a
The streets is so cold my n *** a
Make nobody come try cry me a river
I'mma pull through like the strings of my guitar.

Nobody really cares what is going on with you except their emotion is attached to your comfort and satisfaction. Giving on television can be awesome. You get fans screaming your name and testifying to your kindness but it is those secret assistances, the ones that go unnoticed, that carries the weight of your regard for people.

What can I say? Will I not continue to exist, carrying grief like a stone around my neck? Will I look back and not smile at how this friend or that friend made me laugh? Will I not miss them? Will I not look at my life in my hand and wonder, of what use?

I have been asked to interact more and leave the house. Yesterday after staring at pictures I took with her so many years ago, back when we still held the world in our palms, I went to visit a friend at his place. I numbed myself the best way I know how to and tried to forget for a few hours, the futility of it all. I like to think that my friend is in a better place. I like to think that her good deeds won over the bad ones and they counted for her in the other side of life. I hope when my own turn comes it is quick and painless. I know it won't be but the hope keeps me sane.

Thank you for reading my rambling thoughts. I know we all have dealt with grief at one time or the other of our lives. I don't do well with losing people and I can be incoherent in processing thought. I can only think of escape, any silent place. I hope this finds you well. And if you grieve, I share that burden with you. I am saying, see me too, I feel. Good morning.