An uncle of mine passed away about a week before Christmas last year. Here we were right in the midst of preparing the house, baking cookies, shopping for gifts and clothes when we get the call from my dad informing us what had happened. We were all utterly stunned. Stunned and speechless. No one could believe it. Cos he was very healthy and chose his daily routine carefully. And my dad was just speaking to him the day before about Christmas plans for the next week. And now he was gone.
All I could think of when I heard the words were his children. We're a close-knit family and we all grew up with each other so my heart immediately flew out to them. My duty was clear, I had to be with them to show my support and love. I was almost at wits end trying to decide if I should bring anything or what to say when I saw them or how to act. This was not gonna be an easy breezy thing for me. As tough as I am, I still lose it when it comes to hearing or seeing someone lose their parent or child. It literally tears me apart cos I keep putting myself in their shoes.
Which was exactly what happened when we arrived at my cousin's. My eyes were constantly wet from the tears I was holding back as I looked at my cousins sitting by their father's coffin holding his hands. Their mother was the picture of heartbreak. Her sobs and the constant tears streaming down her face was enough to break even the coldest of hearts. And behind her, her sisters sat giving her the silent support she needed. Each one, I'm convinced were thanking God that it was not them in her seat.
Throughout the evening, people came and went. Prayers were said, hymns were sung, alot of comfort and solace were given and received. I tried to keep my mind occupied cos it was definitely not a good time for me. I hate funerals. I hate not knowing what to do. And I hate watching people I love cry. Even my dad who is the most solid person I know was crying. It sucked.
But my cousins. My poor brave cousins were holding up better than I expected. I was so proud of them. But only God knows how much they were torn inside. I wanted to hold them and tell them everything was gonna be alrite. But I couldn't cos I didn't know if things were gonna be alrite or if things were ever gonna be the same again. My uncle was quite the dominant figure in our lives. He was not exactly my most favourite person in the world because of his powerful figure of authority appearance but that does not mean I did not respect him and cherish him for all the times we had. He raised his girls to be independent beings and he challenged them and made them the women they are today.
The cremation was the following day and it was a long tiring process for all involved. It was easy to see they were all drained physically and emotionally. I had no idea there were so many rituals and steps involved in preparing him and them for the final rites. It was a definite eye opener to a culture that is slowly distancing itself from me. Through out all this, I kept a special eye on my own dad. Nothing like tragedy to make you cherish your loved ones even more. A sad fact that I've come to notice in recent years. It is in times of tragedy, that differences and wrong-doings are forgotten and we all become one again.
To my cousins, my prayers and love are always with you.
To my uncle, may you be at peace.
