Mothers Departed
My mind just wandered to all those who love their mothers too but cannot tell them because they are no longer part of this world. How would they have felt? Would they have said, ’what a pity, my mom isn’t here for Mothers’ Day’? You bet. I daresay a few tears would have been shed too. While I cannot claim to actually feel the pain of losing one’s parent, especially a mother, I do know the depth of sorrow, the grief, the never-ending heartache and the angst that they feel. I came dangerously close once to losing my own mother because of ill health and I would never forget the dark gloom that became a part of me while we bought, returned, and then bought again several pints of blood.
More poignantly however, were the experiences of people around me whose mothers have changed addresses. In 2004, a close friend of mine lost his mother. I can still remember the hopelessness that settled in his eyes as his mother was being buried. I still remember well, the agonizing wails of his sister. Though my friend delayed the funeral procession because he wanted to see Jay Jay Okocha’s stunning freekick against Cameron, I can still see him shivering in the hot February sun when he performed the dust to dust rites.
Stranger still is the story of a friend from the university whose mother died while he was writing examinations and she was buried before he got home. He neither saw the body nor the casket. His grief was maddening. I have yet another friend whose mother was buried four days before he was told. He refused to accept his mother was dead. Fighting off pleas and struggles from family members, this ‘mad-man’ dug out the grave with his bare hands, tore out the shroud to look at his mother’s face before collapsing in absolute despair.
There are countless other stories of the loss of a mother. The experiences might vary, but they all have the loss in common .The pain is the same. The emptiness. The overwhelming paralysis. They have all suffered the horrible pain of bereavement. It took my mother over fifteen years to come to terms with her own mother’s death. What I have learnt is that there can never be closure, even if it was after a long period of illness. You still hurt and still have many unanswerable questions: why? Why us? Why her? Yet, there are no answers; only faith that she is resting like it is said.
To all my friends whose mothers are no longer here with us, my heart goes out to you. I can only tell you to keep on being strong. You have been unbelievable brave in the face of the trauma. I can only say that regardless of the circumstances in which she went out, your mother cannot suffer anymore. She has joined the Heavenly. As a Yoruba boy and as a Christian, I believe in the after-life and I know, that people of the after-life, have it better than us mortals. Heavenly beings can no longer hurt, or fall ill, or be broke. They cannot suffer lack or want. If they happen to have been Nigerian, they can no longer suffer petrol scarcity, bad roads, no light ,bad leadership …even scarcity of pepper like we witnessed this last week…
The only thing you owe her, is to make a success of your life. And be happy. Your mother would have given her life twice for you to be happy. Her chapter is done and yours have just begun. Write it in gold letters. May the souls of all the mothers departed rest in eternal bliss. May light perpetual shine on them. And may our own lives, make them proud from the Heavens.
