Tag Archives: Death

Gratitude?……Yes!

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Undeniably it’s been rather tumultuous times recently however sometimes the joys we seek is not a thing but a process; the process of letting go because it is when we let go that we are able to see.

Today makes it 8 years, I encountered an amazing individual; funny, charming, intelligent and creative. He’s become one of the reasons to encourage me to keep going on even when the storms are at their worst. When the little glimmer of the skies are completely eclipsed by the darkness of the storm, he can still make me laugh and realize that there’s more joy in the process regardless of what’s going on. His childlike faith and compassion is worth learning from.

Gratitude

I don’t know what you’re going through however I do know that pulling the plug is not something that is an option because a thief is one who takes something that isn’t theirs without getting permission to. I don’t think ‘it’s better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission..’applies here. Somethings are sacrosanct; our lives are gifts from The Creator and the only way we express our gratitude to Him is by the way we live our lives so rest assured suicide is not an option. I promise you! There is no adroit weaving of words that can justify not being intentional in our lives or choosing to end it.

I like shoes, one of the few things that I can still like….it’s a choice too; to like or not to like. Yesterday presented me with another option to grab that lungful of air that will keep me alive whilst I’m submerged by life’s unpredictable waves. And yet again I must apologize for not being faithful doing this, I am still flawed and imperfect in more ways than I would want to know. There’s a generational transition currently taking place and it is inevitable because life must go on and in order for that continuity to occur, there has to be that anguish that’s associated with losing a parent or parents (whichever does apply to you). In that anguish, some of the best things are learned! I promise you that as a parent, it is so much better to be buried by a child than to bury a child.

In times of war, parents bury their kids however in times of peace, children bury their parents. Let that simmer in for just a tad; we all crave some peace whether it be publicly or privately. Having veered off, I’m redirecting. With more than one, comes the need for choice and sometimes choosing can be a pain, that for me is one reason I don’t like shopping or eating alone. Yesterday I met Dwayne as I made my way to the neurologist for a sleep deprived EEG and I realized that I have been lacking in my expression of gratitude. A fellow ex-trucker, he made the few minutes we spent together, nostalgic and yet humorous because while I vacillate between what shoes to wear (and usually seek help), he doesn’t have to because he’s an amputee so now I thank God for both my feet and then my shoes.

I’m grateful that I am able to see a doctor because I can appreciate what he and his team do for me. The years of preparation, just for lil ‘ole me. I’m grateful for my medication because it gives me some respite from this horrendous journey as well as the opportunity to say thank you to the pharmacist who spent all those years and money studying to become one, just to help me. I’m grateful for the time in the valley because at least I have a tent and can extend a hand to those who are homeless. I’m grateful that I’ve never been homeless because sleeping in a car is better than sleeping under a bridge.

Hospitality

Honestly, I said this was going to be brief however now there’s so much to be grateful for and so I’m grateful for you, sacrificing the time to read this. It is tough however it’s easier to act like an entitled (I just don’t like that word but oh well…) buffoon than pause and take stock of what you have and don’t have. Vulnerability demands that we be true to ourselves in order to trust the process and also be thankful for the process. I wasn’t singularly close to my mother however it’s been 3 years since she passed and I still miss her so much. 5 days ago would have been my parents 50th wedding anniversary; my mom’s up in heaven and my dad is battling dementia however I’m thankful for all their sacrifices because we might not have made Forbes list but they instilled in me, self confidence and much more than can be bought with money.

I’m not grateful for dystonia however I choose to be thankful on the journey because I have encountered and built a home filled with remarkable individuals. The storm rages on however I’m grateful because I know someday it’s going to end and what an expectation and hope that’s being built with each new day. I choose gratitude every day, whether it be in letting go of something or someone or in being hospitable to a stranger because I know therein lies yet another opportunity to touch a life with no condition attached and no guarantee of reciprocity.

And so I dare you to choose gratitude, and let’s see where the cards fall.

עד שניפגש שוב, יהי רצון שהפנים שלו יזרחו בטובך!

Adieu!

Wave upon wave…

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Adrift

“You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore before you decide to be happy!” – J.M ‘Nightbirde’

It’s not about the decision but rather the elusiveness of happiness. Battered over and over, each wave harder than the latter, yet the stone quietly disappears still glistening, every encounter ripping a piece of my soul. Would you let me see beneath your beautiful, each shuddering breath anticipating the usual no? You don’t know me, you don’t see me but you clamor like the earth and its fullness is yours? How much longer can I bear this weight? How broken am I? Perfection, an oasis in the shimmering distance, unattainable yet teasing.

My clenched teeth hidden behind a smile is the only visible sign of the agony that besets me with every breath. Love surely doesn’t live here anymore however beneath my tent, I still hear the raucous laughter of the naive, the barely concealed glee of ill gotten weight, pockets weighted down that they burden you unknowingly. Here today, gone tomorrow; saddled with the burden of keeping count, I’m almost terrified to look at pictures just to acknowledge the spaces that once were occupied. How much longer can I go on? My question is rhetorical because the silence just magnifies my inability to comprehend.

Dreams disabled? It takes nought to do and still the dreams shatter but not the ability to. It’s eerily quiet at the moment and despite how hard I try, this is a moment that just won’t disappear. Where do broken smiles go? Where are they buried? Forget the fading applause, the night is certain in its duties. Disregard the glitter, they are but crumbling dust in my hands. The whispered terror, the blood shed, the victory won; it’s a maze I’m in but with each passing second, my limbs can barely function. This can’t be my home because I’ve walked the streets of grandeur once, hope is all I’ve got now and like the sand in the hourglass, it trickles away.

Just before this flame is extinguished, I grab the next candle, all but wax….hope remains surely. In the twinkle of an eye, the breath ceases and with the silence, I can hear it no more. Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest? Begone vile ones for he too deserves some peace. Your rum laced breath, overpowering as you prerorate, nothing is yours, you seem to forget. Naked you came in and naked you’ll depart, how do you so easily forget this? There’s no mountain high enough to shelter you, no valley low enough to hide the echo that resonates with your foolish gestures.

The years go by, and I find joy in the seed of my loins. Nothing can be done that hasn’t been done, yet still I refuse to cease my search for light in this overwhelming darkness. It’s not my garment of choice, each gust of wind blowing away a piece of my tattered cloak and still I must choose. When will the end come as I continue on my journey? What companion awaits me ahead is a question I cannot answer however I must ask. And if the ire is unleashed, what do I fear cos there’s nothing left.

70% hypothesized, but the tears so fast-flowing gives room to doubt. In my lament, I know there’s a message for any who cares to listen. You cannot cry me a river, the drought has been long and severe, cruelty is its driving force. The cold gnaws to the inside and all warmth is almost gone, and still I’m here; hope for the future, my only respite. In Your Arms, I find refuge and although comprehension might not be there, I’ll take what I’m given and yet hope. My strength has since depleted, the hollow echo bearing witness however it’s not by strength.

Cast adrift like flotsam, the waves are even more brutal, a purpose to be fulfilled regardless of how empty I fill. My journal has more endings and I hope, still I hope that there are also beginnings. Not the beginning of a journey, this one I’m yet to complete but rather the beginning of a restoration. I’ll yet hold on even as my sinews come apart and my ligaments give out, it’s nothing new but this I know “A man who has not prepared his children for his own death has failed as a father.”

Rest in peace, GED, OEBI, CD, RCB, PKW, NOC, CJO, JNM, KL, PZ, WS and may your memories be blessings to us.

The Loss & The Pain…

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Wear it well

It’s still so unreal…31 days ago precisely I received a call with information that could have been phrased better (but semantics aside, we get to choose to be kind or mean, compassionate or manipulative). 31 days exactly and my life has forever been inexorably altered, not knowing how scarred I am, I do know I’m not the same person.

For 2 decades and 4 couples, I’ve always asked myself ‘what would Jesus do?’. Now I can’t seem to do that or mebbe my ears have copped out on me (something on this body seems to give in every other day currently) and I just need to be louder. He is sovereign (and was man too) and His reason for calling you home is not one I’d think of asking. Nonetheless, it’s pointless cos I know my mind lacks the ability to comprehend His reason but still I trust. As the veils start coming down, I still hear you say, ‘Edu, you’re my son. Everyone can’t be like you.’

Mommy, I tried! Wiped off the derision spat at me in the last decade, ignored the haters and toiled as much as I could. You represented the glue, you walked the talk even though you were far from perfect like everyone else. Mommy, I forgave cos I was forgiven. I addressed needs when I saw them despite your reproach, ‘You know you need all the money you can get!’ but I’ve always lived by a different set of rules anyway. You taught me to be kind and compassionate but you also made it clear, each life has its own path.

The friends I was contemptuously told would abandon me are still here till this day, and I’m grieving hard because I erroneously believed my heart couldn’t be broken, pandering to the false notion of machismo. Nose to the grinding mill, I persevered like the orphan with no one to call family. Through the darkness, there was always the flicker of a candle spurring me not to give up. Now the dam is breached, irreparably I fear and I acknowledge my heart wasn’t ready because even with the odds and limitations, I try to assuage the pain by praying you know that I really tried my best.

Mommy, you said fighting doesn’t make you a man but the truth is that as a man, you must fight. And even though I’m confident that He who began the work in you has perfected it,, why can’t this gnawing hurt and sadness ease so I can breathe? Even as I look at the unbalanced scale, I hope I made you proud. I hope you see the plans, God willing, I had for you. I hope that even as I grapple with your tragic exit, you’re alive in me. But even though I was able to tell you how much I loved you, it still doesn’t bring the relief I crave.

Your wings were ready, my heart wasn’t so I still struggle to give peace a chance, that was your final mission. And forgive me if I don’t turn the other cheek because I see how quickly the vultures and hyenas lie in wait. Know this mommy, the wicked will have no peace and for the sake of He who hath called me, I will yet look to the hills for strength and I pray that I’m not consumed by this unrighteous rage. Rest in peace because you earned it but nothing can fill this void caused by your exit, still I will trudge on and ask that you guide me lest I give in to the darkness that beckons to me.

Thank you mommy, for making me who I am and teaching me that knowing the ‘who’ will always trounce the ‘how’. Adieu mommy and rest from your labors. I love you but miss you more, Edu.

The Solitude of pain……

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“Where, O death, is your victory?    Where, O death, is your sting?”

Yesterday, I longed with outstretched arms for my final triumph……triumph over death, a victory sure and certain in Him!

Friday marked the end of a horrid week and just like a child watching the shadows disappear with the dawning of a new day, ironically but whimsically I stayed awake to watch it exit and reach with gladness the joys of a brand new day. And no, I mean it literally because for all of us, death is a subject best left at bay until with cold icy fingers, it snatches away someone very close and dear to you and that is when it hits you; the inevitability of death. And what better conquest than not just to acknowledge there is victory even in death but to also acknowledge that the triumph is real and can be yours when you believe.

Mind you, my longing was not due to the near death encounter I had trying belatedly to get off the Jubilee line, the doors swooshing close with pneumatic force, trapping my companions – my staff (Simple) and my mini holdall. Thankfully, I was not as fast as I used to be because I would have been caught by the doors performing their monotonous yet essential task. Yet again, even then, I marvel at the good in humanity for those who without a thought give it manifest when suddenly a need is thrust upon them. Two commuters, one inside and another outside the train, sprang to life and wrestled the doors open, freeing me with a cheeky grin on their faces even as I bestowed my gratitude on them. For them, it was just another call to duty – these are the everyday heroes who go unannounced whilst knighthoods are being bestowed on people just for the fun of it, for doing what they have always done, nothing extraordinary reminding me again that present day societal life is a whirlpool, sucking the good and expelling flotsam and debris that is frantically clutched to and termed good by the crowd.

It was the realisation as I lay upon the examination table, feeling the gentle hands of Richmond trying to restore blood circulation to my spine and my constantly overworking muscles responding to the chaotic signals being emitted by my brain. The torque like sensation in my lumbar, the pain like the lapping waves of the sea – intense most times and tender but still there, blepharospasm and facial twitches, poor proprioception……just that realisation that even they just like everyone else can never understand how you feel and when I am inundated by the  incessant and more often insincere ‘how are you doing?’, it is also a stark reminder that I am all alone in this and when I look down at the only helping hands I have got and realise even as they hurt that I might just have exhausted all my innate strength to go on, I have a choice – to see beyond the blepharospasm and look upwards, embracing in all humility the inexhaustible reserves of strength available. I have made peace with my best friend after I laid into him after a very aggravating call from one who should know better after nigh on 2 decades.

The question ‘is it curable? can it be managed?’ gingerly put across to me by the lift operator as I made my way to the ticket floor  was one filled with concern and with the clouds already threatening to overwhelm me, I smiled and nodded, still feeling very isolated and alone – not by choice but by the circumstances in which I am in because in all sincerity, nothing brings that realisation quicker than when you are being probed by different medical experts and hear varying comments from these medical experts. They do not understand! Nobody human really can except you have walked those shoes or are walking in them….

“Row upon row of cheering spectators

Crowd the vast arena full

But there is only one man who really knows

And he is the one who faces the bull”

Now if you have ever watched a toreador do his thing with so much panache, you always fail to realise that each time the bull charges at him, that is just a man against over 2000 lbs of rage and muscle. He is a man just like you, and whilst he may be skilled in his act, he is still a man. For many who have been isolated by pain and have given into the solitude of pain, this is for you because I know what it feels. And just as the friendly rail official remarked that I looked very comfortable stretched out on the wooden seat at West Ham (after of course asking if I was alright), I recalled the lyrics of Bon Jovi

“I wanna lay you down in a bed of roses / For tonight I’ll sleep on a bed of nails / I wanna be just as close as your Holy Ghost is / And lay you down on a bed of roses”

acknowledging with clarity and certainty, the unfailing closeness of Him despite all that is going on presently and knowledge that the shadows are being chased back as each new day dawns with its own cache of memorable moments and a new set of unique individuals like mentally impaired Teddy who would give anything just to lay in a bed of roses and that is what keeps me going. The words of encouragement from my best friend and father accompanied with those of  Kalthume and the very few who have and are still standing with me, each day bringing in someone new even if it is just briefly. We are all made to achieve some good in someone else and whether we choose to fulfil that role, the choice is ours. Mine has been made and yet again, I pull back the curtains of despair and reach down with aching and cramped hands to my shoelaces………..and pull myself up again. This is not over until I say it is, I too love the opera and can attain those notes the fat lady can because I am as unique as she is.

“A man dies …. only a few circles in the water prove that he was ever there. And even they quickly disappear. And when they’re gone, he’s forgotten, without a trace, as if he’d never even existed. And that’s all” – Wolfgang Borchert

Today, again I reiterate my choice – I am not just gonna be a mere ripple in this vast waters of life, alone or accompanied. I choose to be an inspiration to as many. I choose to give a shoulder and a listening ear to as many as desire it. I choose to wear out not rust, and finally amidst a blaze of glory, watch as my flames burn down with many a hearts warmed by the special privilege I had of meeting with them. I recall Sanaa, who just turned 12 on Wednesday as she was wheeled aboard the EL2 in her wheelchair under the watchful eyes of her carer, Vanessa. With a huge smile plastered on her face as she tried to make words and cope with her mental challenges, I reminded myself that I have enjoyed the privileges she may never know, for nigh on four decades and so the least I can do is make her smile just a mite wider. With a shy farewell we parted ways and that brief encounter for me gives me the zest to continue, regardless of a body that is responding to chaotic neural signals and the incessant pain. I know that I can and I choose to.

And remember………………we were made to live for His pleasure and not just exist.

 פרידהעדשנפגששובחבריםיקרים ….. 

Adios!