Some time at the beginning of this year we had to go to Busia, Western province. (That’s where my dad is from and where my mummy rests now) I think it was Easter. When we had to go, it was Easter. Now, going to my Father’s hometown for occasions like Easter is a normal thing but this year it was different.
We weren’t traveling with my mum in the car, seated at the co drivers seat. With her being in charge of the radio and changing the music once we had listened to a whole album. Finding out every once in a while if we were hungry and wanted the bananas that she had carried with her from home. Sausages anyone? How about a fruit? Are you sure you’re fine? ” Muuuuuum, please turn on the AC its so hot” “MUUUUUUUM, Barbara is taking up too much space in the car”
Mum: ” Barbara, can you stop being mean to your sister!” oh how i miss getting lectured. You don’t know how much you miss it until she is no longer there to shout at you.
This year it was different. She wasn’t traveling with us in the car. No. She couldn’t. Not when Cancer made sure she wouldn’t be there for this Year’s Easter.
Now I couldn’t for the life of me explain to you what emotions I was going through but two days prior to our travel I became a different person. I couldn’t eat or sleep and I cried all the time. I really did not want to go upcountry for Easter and I demanded to be left behind. I was basically acting like a brat. OR at least that’s what it looked like. It seemed like I thought that I was too “cool” to go upcountry and now that I was 21*lol, I hadn’t even celebrated my birthday yet* , I mean I could make my own decisions right?
Truth is ,I later learned , I was afraid to go back. I was afraid to have to see the grave site. It pained me that she was 6 feet or more under and there was nothing I could do. It hurt that I was going back for Easter to celebrate something good but all I had were dark emotions. I never blamed God,Ever, but I always wondered why He would do that to me.
And so it was that I finally traveled upcountry with my family, my eyes Red as tomatoes because I cried all the way from Nairobi to Kisumu.( Its about an 8hour drive to our hometown but my dad being the Formula One Race driver he is, Hi dad?, we clock it in about 6) It was just not the same…
My mum would get to cleaning the house whenever we got there and chase me around with dead insects(That is my greatest fear, insects, from the tiniest of them all to the largest of them, if you hate me, insects are your “light bulb” moment) this time there was no one chasing me. She would divide tasks between all of us, this time my dad was too afraid to ask lest I started a waterworks company with my tears.The women in the village wold come to greet my mother and offer their help with cleaning the house,this time we didn’t see anyone till much later. It was different.My mum was 6 feet under and I couldn’t even get myself to walk to her grave to say hello.
The reason I’m writing about her grave and her resting place is because…
well I will tell you tomorrow…
too many emotions for one day.
okay then, tomorrow my loves