It is a beautiful day to write or so I may think.Maybe not but in my state of mind I don’t know what better to do with grey to dark hanging clouds,no sun in the heavens or a flicker in the horizons and drizzles to match.A pluviophile would help in such wet and muddy weather I suppose.
Maybe it is my love for nature and more so for wet and rainy seasons that most often gets the best of me.
For today though,I don’t know whether to call it beautiful or not,yes,to write it is such an exclusive one for thus but what delights one soul could be the variant death of another;call it a less glamorous or amorous one for yet a third.What to write about however becomes a nudging prick though as the little droplets pound ever softy on the front of my shop,subsequently building into puddles and a flow of sorts.
I envy how reporters do it,like go all out in search of a story.As for me however,this theory of ‘It is written,’as Maktub would have it allows me no such delights.I hence have to wait till the story comes to me and in all its rawness I can hence relay.
In retrospect however, I am lost back to the preacher’s words,oh wisdom could sure be the death of me or us,maybe or maybe not,huh?I don’t know if it is true that it is better the day of a man’s death or that of his birth,and yet better for those who are dead rather than those living.
On an open scale I would say these were more words of consolation than those of reality,a skit to which throws me off to what reality and perception really are,or if yet still both hold water to their own scopes in consequence?He,however adds that the reason to this conclusion under the sun is because the living know that their fate is the grave while the dead have already accepted their fate as it is.#
Speaking of fate,it is also written that the worst evil a man would ever bring upon himself is to fight and try thwart his fate,and yet still the greatest joy and winner of all is when a man knows and realises his fate and in so doing totally embraces it.
None of these are my words however so hold with me PePa treader as we try to decipher all these unrelenting truths and hence find the path to whose purpose we seek.
Back to whether this really is a beautiful day or not,whether it is only in my eyes or a mere perception,we go back to this chat I sent last night wondering whether she had stopped missing me or not.This went unanswered and having been absorbed in netflix and chill in union with an unprecedented worldwide blackout,’okay at least it was world wide in my little town strayed outside the skirts of the city’,I miss the wind or lurk of the response which on checking came in this cold morning.
Not an expected answer however as my darling friend Lisa is in a mourning mood;always kicks me off balance how today we are all okay and the next moment all is thrown to the wind,you could call it mood swings or female hormones but no,not today>>> today as it is is not the same as everyday,it is not an ordinary day.The cut is real and digs deep to an overflowing bleed not quite characterised by tears or screams but a weird if not serene sense of withdrawal.
What do you do when just the other day you were laughing and joyfully screaming obscenities at each other and yet today,today they are no more,they are a story left in lines of narration,a whisper of who they really was?I have lost a close loved one and teared in torrents when reading out their eulogy yes,it never hit me they were that close till I read out their name and at that very moment yes,it all dawned on my once strong and almost stable heart that they were gone;yes they couldn’t have been the best of persons as per my moral standing or judgement but no they din’t deserve to die,did they?
Deserve to die huh?Brings to mind lots of questions most often left unanswered or better still with half baked answers.So the preacher’s words play back again and I retort as contemplation takes form,yes,’there is a time for everything’,so he said,what a consolation to a human grieving heart or mind!And still when we grieve,it is our minds,pumping heart or unseen heart that aches.So the time to die is hence here and me who has lost a loved one before can’t honestly say I know how it feels like to lose a loved one,let alone one you are totally drawn into and are in love with,in love with to the point of planning a future together.
True,I know it really pains,even cuts to depths unstitchable,points that even the mention of God’s comfort to such an ailing soul sounds more like a blubber into the ears of a deaf man telling them you love em.Yes love em,returns me to the point of God in perspective who hence can only come into play at this point,not in words though strong but in truth of action,presence and utmost reliability and availability.A sure relay of faith with actions.
The question still lingers in the air as to who deserves to die and who doesn’t.And do we actually die or our souls just part with the body?A question most scientists still have no clue to yet forms the very hope of our existence,that this life has more to offer than just to live and die!
I relay her pain in writing however as she plays back to how he came over a week past,they made breakfast(I bet a case of breakfast in bed,huh?),played and laughed around,not to forget the toothbrush joke!But on this 18th day he is no more,the sickness that seemed to go away got the better of his ailing body and surely body and soul had to part ways,one to the durst and the other hopefully into paradise.So off into higher realms his soul rode,and she was left to ride into the horizon to rediscover her purpose for now she sees,her purpose may not have been entwined with his,at least not in this next part of her breathing life,hopefully through fate in the next.
Looking back she is so done,in her words of desperation as even tears,the only solace she could cling onto is nowhere in the horizon.In its place is a subjection to wonder and laughter,a laughter that should help abate the pain.To what end I have no idea but my plea to Lisa is to cry it out.In my mind I suppose the pain of the tears themselves will burn out the overwhelming pain of separation,untimely separation if you ask her…
I try to feel her pain but in truth I can’t manage because no two pains are equal even though on the same level,the magnitude of each is based on a number of factors that even research couldn’t complete in an entire lifespan,lifespan huh?Lifespan,so short or better still so unpredictable,it is here today and gone tomorrow,yet the pain lives on..Maybe if we looked at it as fate then it would make more sense,or better still if it came with a manual and timetable of how and when it would end then that would ease it all away,huh?
No amount of words can explain or express the pain she feels today,even the drizzles that sooth my mind to sleep at night face a tougher task in calming her sorrow,sorrow that as they say time will heal.So yes,maybe for now the preacher could win this day as he brings us with his words to a time of mourning,yes maybe for a moment until mirth sets in and we will forget that we hurt and pained prior.
My only consolation at this moment is that this same God whom we could be so angry at for the moment because of watching as Kari’s breath left him without holding it on,has placed eternity in our hearts that we may never find out what he has in store for us but still hope for it.
At this point the preacher parts Lisa on the shoulder telling her of all vanities under the sun and that in conclusion,it is better for a man to eat and drink and be merry and to make his soul enjoy good in his labour.Hence to rejoice as a young man in one’s youth and in all these things know that God will bring us all to judgement,therefore remove sorrow from your heart,and put away evil from your flesh,for childhood and youth all pass away…hence fear God and keep His commandments;for this is the whole duty of man.
What can PePa add to such deep wisdom,if even the wisest and richest of men acknowledges this,what can I,mere man wrap to this?
whether it is an I love you Kari to an RIP Kari,we give thanks in all and rejoice in every moment.Live today.