Eight years ago I lost my Queen the woman who gave me life with God’s help of course. The woman whose looks I inherited. The woman whose curves I inherited. The woman whose mannerism I inherited. The woman who was the first to inspire me. She was a light in my life and to so many people’s lives. She was a prayer warrior, literally I have never met anyone up to this day that could pray as much as my mom. My mum had six Children and everyday without fail she prayed for us one by one. When she finished praying for her Children she would start praying for her siblings, friends, cousins, the sick people in the village and basically anyone she could think of praying for.
The most difficult experience ever was loosing her to cancer. The pain is indescribable, its like no other. It’s not like stumping your toe, getting poked in the eye, hitting your funny bone on something. It just hurts and there is nothing you can do to get rid of it. I just remember just sitting with my grief. Not knowing how to feel, what to do. My main focus was helping my siblings to organise the best funeral our Queen deserves. It felt like I was having an out of body experience.
Its not me, its not me whose lost their mum. Its not my mum whose died. Not my Queen.
My Queen she had such a zest for life but she did not allow her hard life to hinder her. She was always singing a hymn or two. Dancing and stamping her feet like she was dancing for the Lord most of the time she was. I remember her last few days a van full of her church members came to visit her in hospital. I kid you not before they arrived she was on oxygen via a face mask. When they came she had removed the face mask and was singing with what energy she had left praising her God. Just the sight of it all bought me to tears. After the church members had left she was slumped , struggling for breath and back on oxygen.
My Queen was loved by many. Her funeral was packed with people she knew near and far. Most of them knowing who I was but I had no clue who they were. I just grinned and politely greeted them. The day of her funeral was a blur. Grief was my nutrition, grief was my oxygen. In University as a student nurse I learnt about the seven stages of grief. I remember thinking what psychologist had time to make up these stages. This is absolutely wild. Before loosing my Mum I had only seen people cry at a funeral and that’s it they just get on with their lives. Over the years I have experienced every single one of those stages some of them not once, twice, three times or even more.
I’ve come to understand grief as a pain that never goes away. You just learn to deal with the pain by developing better coping mechanisms. As I celebrate my Mum’s life and I miss her terribly. I am grateful for the many years God bless me with her on this earth. If your bless to still have your mum around tell her how much you love and appreciate her. Spend time with her. Take pictures and make memories that will last you a life time. If your Mum is not around sending you a huge virtual hug.
Such a beautiful piece 💙