Gift of a Merry Heart
Before the break of dawn, the pounding and bawling at my bedroom vanquished all my sleep. The immensity of the incident slapped me out of slumber and left me wide-awake as if drenched by a bucketful of cold water in a winter night. Like an estranged farmer left out of Noah's ark, my sister hammered the door with fiery fists, screaming on top of her lungs tearing apart the serene blanket that covered our neighborhood. A group of grieved relatives backed her mourning. The inevitable had happened. We all saw it coming, but never wished to happen so soon.
Pain had visited my family.
Suffering had arrived.
Tears would dry, weeping would turn to silence, but sorrow would remain in our lives, in our hearts and in our minds, even though all was gone. My mother had passed in her sleep. That sounds all peaceful and ideal for her, but not for us, her orphaned kids. Her death meant only one thing we were now state certified poor folks. She was an enterprising woman, strong, courageous and always with a plan, regarding seeing her kids in school or sleeping with tummies full. After dad passed, she took up the reins of the ship doubling in farming and buying and selling to supplement her monthly pension. She did that well for seven years. Yes, seven years only. And she joined dad.
Through teary eyes, I glimpsed her lifeless body, as she lay down surrounded by my relatives. I could not believe it. For the next three days, I did not believe it. I remember everything that happened those few days, even today. It seemed like a long dream, which every kid of my age wished to stop and woke up into the embrace of a loving mother. Whenever, I felt sick or had a nightmare, mom would lift and take me to her bedroom and let me sleep by her side. How I wished she could lift me and let me sleep by her side in those three horrible days, the worst nightmare or sickness of my life.
I saw the poll bearers carrying her coffin. I watched in horror as they lowered the coffin into the grave. I cried for the first time throughout the ordeal when I saw people throwing dirt into the grave, reality sank in. Yes, mom was now gone. I will never see her again. As reality sank in, it brought with it some distant cousins. Anger swept in. I was angry. I was angry at mom for going so soon, I was angry at God for allowing this to happen. Soon, I would be angry with everyone for trying to give hope to my family