Tribute: The Wedding

My sister and I sat outside the gate as we waited for my friend to arrive.

Our chitenges were wrapped carelessly around our waists and all we could do was indulge in one of the peaceful parts of the process. Distraction.

As we watched the road ahead of us, a wedding procession passed by. And it was beautiful. I forgot it was Saturday.

It dawned on me that even in the midst of my misery, life still had to go on.

I turned to my sister and said: “life’s funny, huh?”. She let out a brief exhale in place of a laugh. She knew what I meant instantly.

The two sides of the realities of life clashed in that very moment. Dark and light met right in front of me. Light passed through the darkness and I was given a choice to ignore it, or acknowledge it.

There were two young kids full of life expectantly waiting to start their marriage journey together as adults.

And then there was my sister and I. Two young kids trying to grasp adulthood and being unexpectedly thrown into it – a journey without our mother.

The irony of experiencing a wedding and a funeral at the same time was one of the world’s uncalled for jokes that we had to hear and make light of even when it stung.

They say it takes three weeks for something to become a habit. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to not seeing her around.

She died two weeks ago. The sun still dares to rise and set, the days go by as they are supposed to. They say the pain never goes away.

They say a lot of things.

The little of the heart I had left breaks in a different way every single day. Making me wonder what will be left in the end.

But uncertainty is part of the process I guess. We never knew we’d lose her. There are stories I would want to tell that would fall on deaf ears anyway. So why bother? What will it change? We will navigate through it. We always do. Right?

Right.