Every Corner of Nairobi reminds me of her. Okay maybe not every corner and not reminded the way you are picturing it.
You see in Sweden..No one knew about my mum except the few that I had let get close to me.Therefore she was never a topic of discussion unless I was the one who put it on the table. At home though, I have realized, more often than not I am pushed into a corner where I have to mention her passing or speak about her and then it has to be in past tense and it is so weird for me.
The hardest for me is when I had to tell our hair dresser that she had passed. It was months after and I had not been to that salon for a while. She went on and on about how she had missed us and then asked about my sister. I gave her an up to date report and then hoped it would end there. But I knew it was coming…I just hoped it was not.
“And mum? How is she doing? It has been a while. Is she well?” Those may not have been the exact words, but it went something like that. Now see I did not know where to start. I think she knew she had been sick but I wasn’t sure. So do I have to explain that too? Okay no…That is way too long. Let me just get it out of the way.
“Mum is not here anymore”. At that point I had not let the idea sink in and I did not have the capability to say “Mum passed away” right off the bat. So she asked me again. ” What do you mean she is not here anymore?” ALL THE WHILE…i was dying inside. I was trying to hold back painful hot tears, I was trying to push away that memory of her that just came flashing by, I was trying to stay in my bubble and not accept reality.
“Oh you didn’t hear?” I still couldn’t say it…I just kept breaking myself more inside. ” Hear what?” “Mummy passed away” 🙁 It was the hardest thing I ever had to say. Her reaction of shock and disbelief made it ten times worse. Till to date I am very uncomfortable when I have to explain or mention it.
Unfortunately though, it has come up in more than one conversation when I have to explain something but It will not make sense without the back story. The back story being of her demise. How am I meant to talk about anything now. Is it a disclaimer I have to give before I say anything? Sometimes I avoid the topic so much, but because people don’t know why I am avoiding giving them a particular answer, they keep pushing it. I think I have told the story twice or thrice already since I have been back.
It does not cause me to cry or get emotional. But I hate the fact that it puts me in a position that people have to pity me. I hate the “sorry’s ” that come with the acquisition of the piece of information. Don’t get me wrong…I appreciate that you sympathize with me. I just don’t want to be treated different because of it. Or for people to act different around me because of it.
I thank God my friends grasped this fast enough and they never put me in that situation.
Some days this journey seems to get easier by the day and then sometimes it seems like I am taking ten steps back. Sometimes I feel like I am truly well on my way to healing and then sometimes I feel like I am not even a mile shy to the finishing point. Is there a finishing point? Do we ever really get to a point like that? Does it exist?
I miss her. xx