Clarity after Death

Nancy felt herself getting weak, her breathing was no longer steady. She could barely keep her eyes open for more than ten seconds and that ache in her chest region was definitely her heart loosing life. The illness was killing her fast and there was nothing she could do to stop it, it was only a matter of minutes. Seeing her daughter watch her from across the room only intensified the pain so she thought of how best to end it. The moment she raised her hand, Dumebi rushed over to her side.

"Mum? What is wrong? Do you need me to get you anything?"
"No my dear. I just want to talk to you. You know I care about you and even though my temperament doesn't allow me show it much, I really do."
"it's ok mum. Everything will be fine. You will get better soon."
"I don't think so my dear. I won't."
"Just rest, you'll see. Let me get your drugs." she made to stand but Nancy held her, so she knelt back with a puzzled and distraught look on her face. Nancy tried to put up a reassuring look but she was too weak.
"I need you to do something for me."
"Okay. What is it?"
"In my blue box on the shelf, there are papers in there that state that you are my 'next of kin' and that all my belongings and money is yours, including this house. If you have any problem with my people or your father's people call Barrister Joe. He'll sort it all out. He has all the originals. Do you understand?"
"I do but it really doesn't matter now. I don't need it yet...besides you are still here." Nancy wanted to her exactly how she felt and prepare her daughter for what was coming, but she know Dumebi would not listen; she was so stubborn and hopeful. Nancy loved her for that and immediately wondered why she had never told her. She wanted to tell her now but she felt her body grow weaker. She had to send her off.

"Go get those papers; I want to show you every part of it so you know."
"now?"
"Yes please." As Dumebi stood and walked towards the room, Nancy watched her; knowing it was going to be the last real image she would take with her. A tear escaped her eyes before she shut them from the world.

She felt a sudden lightness and lift and when she opened her eyes she couldn't comprehend at first what was going on. She was still in the house, still laying horizontal but hovering in mid-air and weight, density and gravity had no relevance. The ceiling seemed to be moving closer and she reached out her hands to stop from colliding with it but her hands just passed through like the ceiling didn't exist or maybe it was her who didn't. Realization began to sink in as she turned around (she seemed to have done it only by thinking it).

Just below her was herself; her body, she figured. At that moment Dumebi entered with the files. She watched as Dumebi leaned over her, shook her. She saw her lips move and her face framed shock from comprehension. She watched as the first drops of tears tickled down, the controlled sobs before it burst into uncontrollable crying and screaming. She wished she could console her daughter; hold her, tell her everything was going to be fine, but she guessed that what happened with the ceiling would happen again. Dumebi still in tears now picked up the file and went through it, and the more she read, the angrier she got and Nancy knew she had the right to be.

Nancy had always been too hard on her daughter and husband; always pushing, blaming and cursing them because she was the bread-winner. She realized now how stupid it was to have kept all that money she made just because she felt they didn't deserve it. If she had helped them instead with what she made they might have had a shot at a happy home. She recalled the many times Dumebi asked her for money and how she had yelled at her to go ask her father. In those papers now was about ten million naira she had left behind, untouched. She tried to place a reason; why she had kept that much money to herself while they were in need of a lot, but couldn't. Even if there was one, it wasn't good enough to excuse what she had done.

She had failed; her time on earth had been wasted. She couldn't right what wrong she had done and wondered where her soul would go now. She kept hoping Dumebi would forgive her as she felt her essence fade. She was sure that Dumebi would better herself, she knew she would because she had indirectly taught her to be strong by being harsh to her. All she had to do was to wait for her forgiveness and she knew she would get it; her daughter had a kind heart.

HIS FEARS, MY LESSON

Dear Clement,

           We went to see your mom, by we, I mean my mom and I. When I saw her I could tell she had started crying from the moment I called to find out where she was. I felt terrible for inflicting such pain on her and almost wished I hadn't come but it was inevitable. Anyone that cared enough would pay that necessary visit. I wondered then how condolence visits started. What it was meant to do and if people were aware of the pain it caused the family members of the deceased to see people who felt sorry for them or with them. It wasn't comfortable sitting with her, we had little or nothing to say. It got awkward, it got quiet, it got empty but we still sat there with her. Eventually I prayed and my mom tried consoling yours with words and all that time I held my own. Then your mom started to talk about how close you and I were and I couldn't hold the tears anymore. Although I still tried to keep it together so she wouldn't break down. All this was going on while I half expected you to walk in and tell a joke.

           I know death, a few has happened in my family but I still couldn't understand it. My cousin, my uncle, my grand-dads and then you. The night I saw the news on Bobby's Facebook page, I was numb, for a few minutes I couldn't process it so I kept going back to reread it. I also read other posts by Bobby, just to be sure. I dropped my phone and distracted myself with some books, I was writing my exams then. Some minutes passed then I closed my books and checked my phone again; it was still there. I sent him a message and finally lay down and the tears poured down. It started as a few free drops, till the gates seemed too narrow for the volume it trapped behind and then the hiccups and heavy breathing and finally the outburst. I could feel you around me as I cried. I imagined you were there trying to console me as I told you I needed to mourn you. You looked down from above and I could see you smile. That instant I became aware of how terrible a friend I had been and I was angry that I didn't get to hold your hands as you laid sick. Maybe if I had been there...

           I still remember the way you called my name in mockery; raising your pitch at d second syllable and stretching the third one. It used to piss me off then. I'd do anything now to hear it again. I remember the frown you had on your face when you advised me not to become a career woman. I  had laughed and I smile now because I understand you were worried about my feminism because you cared. I still haven't changed but I did get a short like the one you wore, I used to admire it on you, it makes me feel closer to you. That day you told me you were scared of what the future held for you and I didn't understand it. You were fresh out of school with a good degree, smart thinking and creative mind. I didn't think anything could stop you; even capital. I never thought about death, now I wonder if you did.

           Looking at your mother I felt insignificant. I realized I couldn't console her, I couldn't even console myself. The only reasonable thing  that I obviously couldn't do was to go get you back for her, for Bobby, for Diana, for Myself and for all the lives that you had touched. You brought laughter and fun, respect and wisdom, you were a wonderful companion and you could always make me feel lucky on my worst days. More than a friend, you were that brother I never had. Every time I walk down that area, that street; anywhere we've strolled and talked together, tears well over my eyes and I smile amidst it knowing I'd never forget those times, your voice, your laugh, your ever pouting mouth. We all love you and we miss you everyday.

 

Your bully,

Damusca.