Like I said, Nairobi is always bringing her up. Not Nairobi but the people in Nairobi. But not like that…just like…you know…well she was known here…and…i don’t know how else to put it.
It is always something here. She will always come up. Especially when I am here. It is not that I don’t want her to come up. It is not that I don’t want us to remember her. It is not that I want to push it away. It is just…
See when I embarked on this blogging journey. On this journey of letting go. On this journey of healing. I got into it with the idea that at some point I would forget. But not like forget..more of tuck her away in a little special corner of my heart and only visit that place when I felt like I needed to.
I also thought it would become a distant memory. Sort of like what Sweden will be in a few months before I go back.How I will not be able to re live the time there again but I will always have the memories close by and I will refer to them at my own will. To put a smile on my face and then just as fast as they came into my mind, will they be gone. Distant memory.
However, I have learned that, that may not be the case. It might not be the case.
You see there is no forgetting like that when, a very old house help calls you months after your whole life was turned up side down to tell you ” Barbara aki pole, nilisoma kwa gazetti eti…” . Not when that was a house help you loved dearly and you know she feels your pain.
There is no forgetting when you get into an accident on your FIRST day back in the country and the lady who you happened to ram into goes ” Abwoga? Was the Late Irene your mother? I used to work with her”
and then goes into detail about her last moments with her. Yes…on the side of the road. On waiyaki way. On a Thursday morning. I even forgot that I had just got into an accident. I forgot that I was causing a traffic build up. I almost forgot that I was rushing to class and I was definitely going to be late. I forgot that when you crash someone’s car you have to work up a payment agreement of some sort.
How much of a coincidence was that though? I just looked up and went like “Mum stop your jokes, I am late”
I have come to accept that there is no forgetting her. And quite frankly , forgetting is the last thing I want to do. A distant memory? I don’t want that either…I actually ,now, have no idea how I want this process to go. So far all I know is that I want to be void of the pain and hurt other than that….Let me crash into you…crash into me…let us stop and talk about the beautiful Irene Abwoga. The mother of three. The wife of one.The friend of many. A sister. A daughter. An aunt. My mother. Let us talk about her? Please? Just no pity…it is all I ask.
And then I just re read all that and the tears are welling up. She is not here anymore. She will never be here again. I Truly do miss her. May she rest in Eternal Peace.
I love you mummy.