Even in death, the life she left behind was still teaching me how small minded the world really was.
When I was informed of her death, tears started to gather in place of the bags under my eye. I was certain I was going to have a breakdown until the doctor mentioned to no one specific in the room that the funeral arrangements where going to be taken care of by her former employers.
And so with tears in my eyes, confusion in my mind and a soul that wished for anything but sobriety. I stood up looked the doctor from the top of his head to the sole of his shoe as he walked around the room looking for nothing in particular.
“What right do they have to determine what funeral arrangements are necessary for my mother’s dead body?” I calmly asked. Shouting never worked whenever I would speak with my mother and figured it would be pointless in this case also.
“Well” begun the doctor, “they have paid for all the arrangements already. They did not want to burden you with having to deal with money issues while you grieve.”
“How truly noble of them.” I retorted with a sarcasm. “Please inform them that I will not be burying my mother, seeing as you’re the middle man also kindly tell them, I will not be requiring their assistance. They are however, welcome to come home and show their respects to the dead.” I said the last word with a defeated sigh before walking out of his office.
How could they? I thought to myself as I took the long walk home. The gesture is appreciated, but how dare they not consult me before making such a massive decision. I am absolutely certain my mother had no prior requirements for her death. Its not like Facebook, you can’t just leave a legacy account and it shuts it’s down after you go.
As I walked through the doors of what was now my house, I finally understood what all those cheesy films were going on about after losing a loved one and getting home to a soulless house. It was a cold summer, blue in every sense of the word. Numb in a every form of understanding.
I closed the door behind me, broke down in tears while using the door to support my back as my body shrunk to the floor. Something devastating about seeing her everywhere I looked in the house but without her soul actually in it. A somewhat hallow existence after all.
I don’t even remember how it started, but somehow my once trusted tutor turned into a mum to me. The once hallow existence can never be filled by anyone but having someone to rely on becomes a beautiful thing.
Now Malita the tutor, turned into Malita the mum. She was a God send, I survived the death of Margaret because she was a pillar and even now without Chileshe, she was picking me up off the too familiar floor.
Oh Chileshe, I’ve been avoiding writing about you. You and everything you stood for. You and everything that could have, no should have been. I locked eyes with you and for some reason I saw my mothers face. I’m a logical being, so seeing my mother logically meant approval, right?
Maybe I rushed and made my own signs. But damn it I thought it was you mother, I thought one last great sign, someone to lead me into the beyond. But then again you were single so I should have guessed that it was my fate as well. A girl can’t dream, but now a girl feels compelled to write her dreams down.
How cruel therapy is and yet they say it helps. Well then, Chileshe was it?
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