I stared at this writing space for I don’t-know-how-long till I remembered when you asked, “Akwele Trish, when will I also feature in your stories?” It breaks my heart that you never did, but it equally comforts me that you’re still real to me unlike the fictional characters… even as you’re no more.
You’re no more, and that’s hard to believe. Everyone thinks it’s hard to believe.
Pastor D, you were… you are…
See! No man… argh! I keep pressing BACKSPACE – my words cannot align appropriately.
When I heard this morning, I smiled because I knew you knew. An hour later, it hit me – what happens to 25th December Danny Nettey & Friends? How about when I come out of campus, can I enter the blue gate or wait outside till you tame the dogs?
Something is broken inside of me. Love heals, true, but it hurts too, especially when it’s gone yet you find yourself holding on to it; sometimes, you cannot help but hold on to it. You remember the voice so clear, the laughter echoing in your ears. I see what love is now.
Funny how we are so certain that God gives us signals whenever a bombshell is about to hit us hard. Funnier how we always make out those signals after we’ve been hit.
You’re gone now and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Lift up your head… He’s here”
– your current WhatsApp message will remain unchanged to strengthen those of us who just lost the closest thing we had to a biological parent.