When a friend dies,
it hits you hard!
It hits you so bad
because then you start to wonder, "Did I love them enough, “was I there to
support them and give them all my best?" You start to re-evaluate what
would have been, what you should have been. And then you sit cold and frozen
that they really are gone.
The night comes and
as the night goes on, you pick yourself up between the spasms of fear, and you
ask silently, "Are they really gone?"
But you know the answer to that question. So you cry bitterly to the
power that death displays every time it takes a loved one.
When a loved one
dies,
It stings, it
re-awakens every dead sense in you, you desire to hate less and love more. To
spread more hope and peace than you would otherwise. It calls you out on your
trivial indulgences in bickering and endless fight among each other and within
yourself.
Death makes you grow
before your time but grow you do. Death steals from all of us; from our every
core she dances with us all day long only to snatch the best dancer at the peak
of their dance. And she drains what is left of the being. I wonder not where
her sting is, for I have felt it and lived with it.
This somber state too
will pass but the real fight is in keeping these people alive in our memories,
the guilt in forgetting how they really looked, the search for old photos, the search
through what you used to say, the need to keep you alive. I know I do see each
of you in still photos where time held you static and kept you forever, yet I
wish the memories to come would bring you along...
It never gets easy to
keep saying goodbye; there was never an easy goodbye... Maybe beautiful
beginnings and amazing in betweens but never one easy goodbye. So we dare to
move on, we dare to leave the place where your candles burnt out. We dare to go
on without you, we risk losing you in the busy of life but each step we take,
and we carry the burden of yet another heart break.
We long to know what
the other side is, we long to believe that the ever after really holds you
waiting. We long to trust that you are okay now but we know not of what is on
the other side of the grave. So we cry bitterly at the realization that you are
gone and only what you did in the dash (-) is what we are left with.
Rest dear ones, for
in due time death will silence us too...Until then. We bitterly miss you
P.S: In memory of my
departed loved ones:
My mother; Vidah
Namuddu Zirimenya
15 years and it feels
like yesterday
(1966-2003)
Danielson Barbara
(Babzee)
(1992-2014)
Joel. B. Ntwatwa
(Nevender)
The grave robbed me
when your candles where brightest
We carry on, but we
dare say that, anything can happen even to us here...It is never a win-win with
death.
