Mother’s day- unknown chapter

It’s bizarre, that’s how I want to start this piece.

Two days ago, my mother got a call late in the night- the kind of phone call that your intuition sparks up, saying, ‘something is not right to someone you care about!’ The kind of call that vibrated through out the house, dragging the last dregs of sleep with it. Our matriarch, remaining bibi, her mother- had been rushed to the hospital and she was breathing via those machines they hook you up on as if you are about to embark on a space adventure, the ones you see in movies and think that would never be reality. Hernia got her there.

Well, my grandmother is also my mother; she was everyone’s mother really, i think when they said it takes a village she took it upon herself to be the village. I am her oldest grandchild, and she raised me fully hands on for the first years of my life until when I was bussed to boarding school over a thousand miles away, and the miles kept pilling higher with time. Over the years, we have had a close relationship. A phone call away, we’d catch up and check on each other; a visit whenever possible. She has been really interested in the kind of life I lead, the choices I make, the kind of young person today’s world has shaped me to be- all this vis a vis the world that shaped her. Her words every time I’d visit were ‘your time is so different, you have so much freedom to do things how you would like them- don’t hesitate for long; live well’. She’s phenomenal- always inquisitive, wanting to know how things work, wanting to know my opinion and wanting to know what my siblings are up to, what my friends are doing, and most importantly if I am as supportive as possible to the people around me.

My mother clearly states that this is not the woman she knew while growing up. Whenever she overhears the conversations between bibi and I or when I tell her bits- she’s in awe saying bibi was never that way with them when they were younger. 

See, In her mothering, bibi is known to have been stern and such a disciplinarian ( I see smudges of this rarely), she was a functional mother (not emotional), she did what was needed of her, for her children, for neighbors and friends; very career oriented, she literally pushed her kids to pursue studies and jobs fully- she succeeded (apart from one uncle- there’s always that stray sheep in the family). So speaking to my aunts and uncles, this is how they know and remember her to be- the woman who got things done, and done efficiently- no half half business!

I am glad for both of them.

And now one is gone. 

This very afternoon as I was writing up this piece for my sister to consider for her blog… my mom calls saying, ‘hali mbaya, bibi is no more…’ and hangs up.

There’s before …and after.

This kind of grief… I’m yet to find words that will communicate it as close as possible. It’s close to month now since she passed on, some nights I cry myself to sleep, other days I’m a mumbling prayer case asking all the angels and saints to intervene for her and for her in turn to intercede for me.

Grief, I am learning, needs to be lived through. That’s what I am trying to do. I had thirty one years with her- my mother and her siblings had more, and at the core of it all there is the pure memories of the person that I don’t want time to temper with. Hence this piece.

Betty

I have struggled to put this up, i won’t lie. I had months of letting it all sink in and until this day, it still has not.

But today, November 2nd “All saints day” it only seemed right. I feel it within me, its as if she reached out and told me putting this up does not mean farewell for good. That was alwasy my worry, that this would mean she is truly gone.

I still struggle with mentioning her as a past tense, i still catch myself before i reach out on sundays and have the urge to call her number to see if this is some bad dream. My nana was the best, words are never going to be enough, she was deeply rooted and passionate, mkali yet the sweetest, she always had candy for everyone, she was constantly giving with a smile on her face, and that is something i will always remember her by.

Until we meet again nana, we miss and love you dearly.

****Bisous****