Those Last Few Days...

I lost my mother on Wednesday 7 September 2005. A lot happened in the last two years of her life but the events of that final week are going to be forever engraved in my mind. I watched her stop fighting and let go of her life breath by breath. I really hope I am now strong enough to write this without breaking down. God give me strength.

My mother had always been strong throughout her sickness. She was so hard-headed she wouldn’t let anything get her down. She still tried her best to talk and laugh as if all was well though she clearly knew it wasn’t. She would get out of bed and clean up around the house on the good days and on the really good ones she would take a walk in the neighbourhood. The out of the blue she just went cold. It was as if a dark cloud was constantly hovering over her. She withdrew into herself and her condition stated to deteriorate. She stopped talking except to make simple requests like when she was hungry and when she needed help going to the loo. She would stare blankly at her visitors and would let them talk about her for hours on end as if she were not there. I took on the task of bathing and feeding her but it was not easy as I had to go to school during the day leaving her alone. One of her aunts came to see her and before she left she asked for a pair scissors and cut off my mother’s hair. I didn't question her I just assumed it was to make it more manageable. I discovered later on that in our culture when elders see that someone’s life is nearing its end they remove the hair on their head. Her little sister came by soon after and she threw such a fit over the cut hair and she decided to take mom into her care. As they drove away I felt some sort of relief because truth be told I wasn’t managing. I was only eighteen and my final exams were just but a month away.

My little brother and I only managed to go and see her on Sunday because we had school all week. I hate to say this but the woman I saw then looked nothing the mom I had known and loved all my life. She was but a shell of her former self. I could see the tears welling up in her  eyes when we entered the room but she would not let them fall. She stared at us and said nothing. We hugged and kissed her- No response. She was as cold as can be. I asked all the right questions how was she feeling? Was she comfortable? Was she eating well? She said nothing... I could see it in her eyes that she so desperately wanted to say something – especially to my brother. But she didn’t. She knew she would weep and she couldn’t have that. (Stubborn to the very end). I had so many questions to ask her, real questions not just small talk. But how could I when I knew she wouldn’t answer. We sat there in silence till the tension was too much to bear. I went out of the room in search of Aunty. I mom’s cheek was really swollen and I was concerned. She said she had noticed too but she couldn’t figure out what was causing it. we made small talk for a while then I decided to go back home. We said our goodbyes as cheerfully as we could. Still not a word came out of her.

On Monday I went to school with a heavy heart. I had so many unanswered questions. And the only person who could answer them wouldn’t speak to me. I got home made supper and tried my best to act like all was well. Tuesday went by without much drama until later on.We turned in early and just before midnight there was a knock at the door. It was my uncle, her younger brother. He was in such a hurry and I could see there was a hint of panic on his face. He needed Mom’s I.D and medical aid cards. She had become critical and had to be rushed to hospital. Aunty was taking her and he would meet them there. I wanted to go too but he wouldn’t let me, he said to go to school as usual in the morning and that he was sure she would be fine. I did as I was told. Wednesday  was long and unbearable. I had not heard anything and I couldn’t concentrate in class. At around eleven I got a strange feeling. A sudden emptiness that I couldn’t explain. I started scribbling on a piece of paper (I write poems when I’m upset). Somehow I knew she was gone I had written about how much I would miss her smile and her laughter. I wish I had kept it but at the time I had other things on my mind. I tried to get a pass at lunch and when that didn’t work I snuck out.

We didn’t have a phone at my house so I went to my uncles and called him at work. He gave me the name of the hospital and the ward she was in. I went home to change and make supper for my brother then I left for the hospital. I didn’t have much money so I had to walk from town to the hospital and that took a while. When I got there my heart was pounding and as soon as I saw uncle and his wife standing at the door my worst fears were confirmed. They told me that the doctor was attending to her and we had to wait a while but I didn’t believe it. They took me to the car and they told me she was gone. I knew already but to hear those words was just too much. They explained to me that she had taken her last breath sometime in the morning. The doctor had told them that he had found a cavity in her swollen cheek. In it was all the medication she was supposed to be taking over the past few weeks. She was stashing them there instead of swallowing. She had stopped living intentionally; I suppose she was tired of fighting a battle with no end in sight. I couldn’t speak, neither could I cry nor do anything. All of a sudden the car became too small. I had to get out. My thoughts rushed to my brother- her baby. She was the only parent he had ever really known. Dad had died when he was only 5. Now only two years later how was I going to tell him his mommy was gone too?

As we drove home I tried my best to compose myself. I had to be strong....I had people who needed me to be strong. My brothers needed to see me with my wits about me. And I had a funeral to arrange.  That’s what I thought anyway. When we got there I asked for my brother to be taken to my uncle’s house. I couldn’t face him. I couldn’t tell him. There were light bulbs that needed replacing and the neighbours needed to be told. People needed to be called. So much had to be done.

I don’t remember sitting down or resting not even for a second.  I was up and about the whole night. I thought if I kept myself busy I could shut out the reality and numb the pain. I didn’t want to feel the loss. I didn’t know how to deal with it. I didn’t want to deal with it.  

Acceptable vs Perfect

"Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, oh Lord my strength and my redeemer" Psalm 19:14

This is one of my favourite bible verses. It’s also one of the best prayers therein. I was introduced to this prayer by my grade six teacher. He used to make us say it every morning and at that time it didn’t mean much. I recited it over and over again but it ended at just reciting. As I grew older and went to high school I forgot all about it. Then after I got saved I found myself looking for it along with many other verses that I had memorised when I was younger. It meant a lot to me that I remembered. I still don’t really know why.

Recently I was walking in town and I started saying the prayer in my head. As I said the words I started analyzing them. This prayer is all about asking God to take over our minds and our tongues the most powerful parts of our beings. These two can make or break us and those around us. Our thoughts often become words and actions. But that’s a story for another day.

What really caught my attention was the word “acceptable” which,  according to Google, means adequate or satisfactory.  I think the Psalmist chose that word intentionally. If we work towards being acceptable it relieves the pressure of trying to be the best. We just try to be good enough. Yet at the end of the day while we’re busy trying to be good enough for God we actually present to him our best. We are becoming perfect like Him without even knowing it. He made us in His image- perfect like Him. Then sin just had to come and ruin it for us and make us all dirty.

You might be wondering why I’m encouraging us to aim for middle ground. Actually I’m not and neither was the psalmist. It was a trick I think. We think “All I need to do is be satisfactory” and as we read the word and do like it says we are moulded into the people God has ordained us to be. We are made perfect in his eyes. And I strongly believe that his definition of perfect differs from ours. He is perfection and he knows its a tall order for you and me. He knows temptation is all around us and sometimes we fall into its trap. But once we go back to His throne and confess and repent, He accepts us and therefore we are made perfect.

So according to this verse acceptable and perfect mean the same thing. Because whenever God takes over He makes us nothing less than perfect

Extreme Makeover- Attitude Edition

 “Where the mind goes, the man follows” – Joyce Meyer.

As I was reading this yesterday I realised it how true it was. Everything we do, or don’t do for that matter, begins in our heads. Then all those other quotes that you hear every other day  about how our thoughts become actions yada yada came to me. I’ve heard it before and it makes perfect sense each time, but I had never thought about it nor had I tried to personalise it.

 How many things have u failed to do before you even tried?  Just last week I woke up with the urge to write something and I had all these ideas swarming in my head. I decided I would start a blog then in the next moment I was doubting myself. I had a conversation with me and I realised I had so many what ifs. What if no one read it or they did read it and they hated it. What if none of it made sense the list goes on and on. I asked my husband he said if I wanted to do it I should (like he says about everything. I swear he would say the same if I said I wanted to cut my head off). I thought about it the whole morning then I realised for every plus I came up with I could come up with a million minuses. So I said to myself I would do it anyway. Even if only one person read it and they hated it. One week later I’m glad I did. But this is just one of the few incidents where I let my positive thoughts overrule the negative. Most of the time I find it easier to just tell myself “honey you could never pull that off” and sadly I believe it and I don’t even try. Then a few weeks down the line I start to regret. All the people we read about in the history books started off just like me- ordinary people with ideas. The difference is they took the plunge.  They could have spent the rest of their lives procrastinating but they didn’t. They could have said it’s too hard but they kept at it. They could have just told themselves how silly their idea was, laughed it off and left it at that. Because of their attitudes the Wright brothers, Leonardo da Vinci, Florence Nightingale and the rest of them left a mark on this world.

Google defines attitude as “A settled way of thinking or feeling, typically reflected in a person's behaviour”. I will be the first to admit that I’m not as driven as I should be. I lose heart easily and I’m quick to give up when it looks like it’s beginning to get tough. Sometimes I lose interest when I shouldn’t and that attitude has cost me too much. I also procrastinate – I have been meaning to start school at the end of the month for the past three years. And I am an expert when it comes to making excuses. It has dawned on me that it’s not that God has not answered some of my prayers, He has but I have been too busy or lazy to rise to the occasion.

From today I’ve made up mind to stop making excuses. I’m going to do anything I want (if the law permits) and I’m going to be so darn good at it. I intend to surprise myself and the world. I’m not going to do “it” tomorrow (whatever it is). I’m changing my attitude. This not a new year’s resolution but a “rest of my life” resolution. I’m done waiting to react to favourable situations it’s high time I start making favourable situations for myself. it’s not going to happen overnight but I will work hard at it and I won’t let anything stop me. My time starts now.

Train up a child

“Train up a child in the way he should go:  and when he is old, he will not depart from it” Proverbs 22:6 (KJV).  

Fafie, my daughter, turned one a few weeks ago. Seems like only yesterday when we were hovering over her in the hospital. Then I was thinking “WOW! I’m a mother”. Come to think of it I’m still thinking it... I watch her grow each day, learning new things especially new words. Some of them make me laugh others are mmmm let’s just say not so funny. As I watched her last night it dawned on me: who she is going to become will be dependent on who I am. That freaked me out. Growing up I had wise level headed women to look up to and she has ME! Poor child.

Seriously though, I have a challenge. What do you teach a growing child? How do you make sure it sticks? With kids it’s not really about what you tell them but what you do. Monkey see monkey do right? Already she’s picked up quite a number of habits from me and her dad and the maid, but so far so good. Nothing scary yet. Anyway what I’m saying is the training has to start now. And it starts with me. I can’t wait for her to go kwagogo (grandma’s) so that she can be told wrong from right. Nor can I make it her teachers’ responsibility when she goes to school. I have to do it.

As parents we need to live the things we teach our kids. That’s the only way they can really get it. If you say one thing and do the opposite you create confusion for your kids and trouble for yourself. How can they follow in your footsteps if they have never seen you walk? Think about it. i’m not saying don’t talk  things over with your kids. By all means say it as loud as you can and as many times as you need to. But after saying it you need to live it. Be their biggest role model, everyone else should come after. Don’t be the picture of the person your kids DON'T want to be.

I pray that God shows me the way I should go so that I can be the best example I can be. I’m new at this but I try hard to do what is right. I know I will make mistakes along the way as does everyone else but I’m prepared to learn from them. I want to look at my kids in 20 years and pat myself on the back for a job well done. But then again who doesn't?

Love Personified

Many of us use the word LOVE quite often. Some of us abuse it even. But few of us know what it really means. Love is a doing word. Less about what you say and more about what you do. All about walking the talk. It is giving without expectation, toiling for no reward or recognition.  When you truly love someone you don’t need to say a word. Your actions will speak for you.

 I have seen love with my own eyes. Well not really but I have met someone who embodies the very meaning of love. She is the colour of love...lol. She is a huge part of my life and she is just amazing. The things she has done for other people- especially me are out of this world.

 I was 18 and my world had just fallen apart. My mother had just died and with no one to take care of us my brothers and I had to be “distributed” amongst our relatives. She ended up with me- headstrong and difficult yet broken. I was so afraid with so many unknowns staring me in the eye. Yes she had always been around while I was growing up. My brother had been in her wedding and we sometimes went to her house for the holidays. She was one of the few people who came to visit while my mother was sick and I thought she was nice enough. But going to live with her was a whole different story. I’m sure we’ve all heard all those horror stories about kids being abused by relatives. Well I had heard them too. Needless to say none of my fears came to life.

 I am at a loss for words right now because there seems to be none that can adequately describe her. She took me in when no one else would and made me one of her own. She treated me the same as her girls and she looked past my many flaws and showered me with love. She gave me advice and corrected me when necessary.  She has taught me a lot and even now that I’m married and out of her house she still does. She tended to me when I was sick. She has never tried to buy my love nor is she afraid to reprimand me. She is as real as they get. The woman I am today is a direct result of her efforts and I am eternally grateful (I know my husband is too).

 She is a huge part of my support system –always eager to lend an ear or a shoulder or both. I know I can call on her day or night and she will gladly answer.  I don’t know where I’d be had God not placed her in my life. She can never take my mother’s place but she’s a close second. Because of her, her children also have shown me a great deal of love. I can’t for the life of me call them cousins... they are now my sisters. And I love them to bits.

 She is my mentor, friend, mother, sister and aunt rolled into one. She has been there for me from that very first day and in her house, correction home I have always felt welcome. Tears come to my eyes whenever I think what would have happened to me had she decided to look the other way and let someone else take me. I know my life would have turned out differently. Like I said earlier words fail me when I talk about her and I know I can never repay her for what she has done in my life.

 I pray though, that God blesses her and expands her territory. That He grants her the desires of her heart. I pray also that He makes more women with hearts like hers. Men too. And if He could make me half the woman she is that too would be nice.

 She is loved and respected by all who know her. Her husband, children friends and in laws. In my eyes she is a Beautiful Black Woman

Beautiful Black Woman

Its not who I am but who I aspire to be, a combination of all those women who have made an impact on my life. The women I look up to and admire most. That woman you read about in books and fairy tales. That woman whose beauty goes beyond the physical.

Beautiful to the bone...lol.

A woman of sound character and strong morals. A woman of humility and grace. A woman with a heart of pure gold from which love abounds .  A woman who commands respect from all. Who when she speaks the world listens. Who makes a difference in the world by simply touching one life at a time. A woman who demands perfection from herself yet accepts the shortcomings of others. Who is constantly seeking to raise the bar and be better in all she does. A woman who exploits her strengths and is able to live with her flaws.   A woman who refuses to be defined by the colour of her skin.  Who embraces her femininity and is not afraid to express herself. A woman who is not limited by geographical borders or the environment.  A woman whose happiness is contagious. A woman that God would be proud to call his own.

I want to be that woman and more. I want to be beautiful in my mind in my body and in my spirit. I want to be a beautiful black woman. 

Mommy Dear

My last post got me thinking about my mother a lot. Every other day I’m reminded of her in the little and big things alike. Like when her favourite song is played on radio or I talk to her brother or her sister and especially when I hear that joke that used to make her roll about in laughter no matter how many times she heard it. But today I’m really intentionally (if ever there was such a thing) thinking about her. And I miss her...

 Yes! I've admitted it. I Miss Her. But let me hasten to say, not in that sad depressing mopey kinda way. Not at all. I used to do all that. I would get myself into a state, cry for hours and walk around looking like a zombie (feeling like one too).  I couldn't allow myself to be happy. God forbid!!!- I thought orphans were meant to be miserable.  I would then get mad at the world for moving on and for not coming to my pity party. Why wouldn't they join me, i mean how could they just go on like everything was the same as it has always been? Didn't all those people who “claimed” to love her miss her too? The list of questions was endless. I even blamed myself for not doing enough.

Well now I know better and I intend to do better. Like I said I miss her. In that i will always love you and I’m glad to have known you kinda way. I can remember her and smile and I’m ever so glad that God comforted me and helped me get past the anger the bitterness and all the other unpleasant feelings that come with it. I have stopped shutting out the memories and I’m letting them flow freely. I don’t feel guilty when I laugh because I know had she been here watching me, she would rejoice in my happiness. She loved me more than anyone ever will and I loved her.

The word love however was rarely spoken between us but it was undoubtedly there.  Like any other teenager and her mom we fought all the time and we never seemed to agree on anything. From television programs to boys and everything in between. But there was a bond so strong, almost visible to the eye. A love that can only exist between a mother and her child. It is that love that got us through the storms. And God knows in the last 2 years of her life we went through so many of them. It is that love that gave me the strength to feed and bathe her on the bad days. That gave me the strength to hold her and tell her it would be OK even though I wasn't so sure. That gave me the will to go on when the world seemed to be falling apart. It is that love that gave me the courage to look into her eyes and watch her let go of life. Even as I write all of this I weep not because I know I did the best that I could and I have no regrets.

Yes there are the many occasions when I have wished she were here with me. To share in my joy when I got married when I got my diploma and when I had my first baby (her first grandchild). But I know now that it was part of God’s plan. I still don’t understand it but I have stopped questioning Him. I have stopped asking why.

I cant take the credit for this transition though. I had help. In fact I had lots of help. The Lord came to my rescue. For his word says “And I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you forever”. John 4:16 (KJV).Need I say more?   

Taken for Granted

“Some have food but cannot eat.

Some can eat but have no food.

We can eat and we have food.

Thank you Lord for everything.”

Its funny how we take so many things for granted and not even realise it. When I first heard this prayer it brought tears to my eyes. To this day it tugs at my heartstrings. The little person reciting it was just proud to be showing off  what her “amazing “ teacher had taught her but as I sat down to eat that night I ate the much despised sadza, covo and beef stew with a bit more enthusiasm than normal.

I got to thinking about how I’m always complaining about this n that. How I feel I don’t need to thank God or anyone else for that matter because I feel entitled to whatever it is I would have received. All of us have been there in fact most are permanent residents. But just think while we are busy complaining about how we do not like what or where we are eating there is someone out there who cannot perform the simple task of chewing and swallowing their food (some can’t even drink soup). Then there are those who are going hungry because of poverty they cannot afford even the very basic things. Immediately I think of the millions in Somalia and Ethiopia starving in their war ridden countries. I remember my grandmother telling me I would end up like them if I didn’t finish my food. Those of us who have food and are able to eat it should be thankful for it.

Then my mind wandered to other things. For example as a teenager I always complained about how my mother never got me. Then it dawns on me now that she’s gone ”at least I had a mother” . I never was able to wear trendy in-fashion clothes but I had clothes and more often than not I got them brand new. I always fought with my siblings and up till now we don’t always see eye to eye but m thankful for their love and support.

I could go on and on but the point is I realise now that my life has been better than average and as I start 2013 I am going to be more thankful. Take everything in its stride and be grateful for each breath and each word I get to say. In fact I’ll start right now- For my daughter, my husband, for love for family and for everything else thank You God!