REFLECTIONS

Reflections: Death and New Birth is a time of reflection. It makes us reflect on afterlife and how fleeting life can be. The things we do not really understand, the things that are inevitable and so much more.

The death of a loved one is an inevitable but very painful experience, it can be likened to a very deep wound that never completely heals.

Every man’s life ends in the same way. It is only the details of how he lived or how he died that distinguish one man from another.

Ernest Hemingway

I have lost two dear people in my lifetime so far; my sister and my dad. The pain I felt in both cases were completely different. I could blame it on the circumstance of their death but that would not be totally true. Blaming it on the type of relationship I had with both of them would be closer to the truth.

Ujunwa (My sister)

I lost my immediate sister first while we both were in secondary school, it was my first experience in loosing a loved one. Ujunwa was her name, the age difference between us was a little more than a year so we virtually grew up together.

We attended the same schools, parties, shared mutual friends and had similar experiences. She was that person that just by looking at me could tell what I was thinking. Most of my childhood stories would always have her name in it.

Ujunwa was the life of every party and gathering. She was a black beauty and even from a young age she always had the attention of the opposite sex. I on the other hand was an introvert and much fairer. Uju was chubby and I was skinny. She loved house chores while I loved school work. She loved people earnestly while I took my time to accept and love people. We were often likened to Fanta and Coke, depending on your taste.

She died so suddenly on the 19th of January 2000, in our dining hall while we were observing a mass punishment from one of our teachers. She wasn’t sick but hit her head on the wall and died of the convulsion. Her death left so many unanswered questions in my mind. The true story surrounding her death remains a mystery as the school and the students around her at the time never gave a proper explanation.

Uju had a great personality and loved the Lord and her family. Her death drew my family closer to ourselves and to God.

My Dad

On the other hand, my dad was my dad by virtue of birth. I loved him not in the conventional way, as it was a hate love relationship. On my dad’s good day when he was not drunk, he was a good person and you could relate with him. When my dad was drunk, which was most of the time; he became a terror to his family and so irrational it was scary.

My mum took the brunt of his misplaced anger, verbal and physical abuse but it sometimes spilled over to us his children. He was a respected medical doctor but not a good father.

After a long battle with throat cancer my dad finally died. His death was inevitable because he started treatment at a very late stage. Our lives for that year entailed various hospital visits, financial stretches, emotional turmoil as we all fought to keep him alive.

As a family we fought for him because of the love we had for God not looking at how he treated us, my mum yet again took a larger part of the responsibility.  On his burial day we mourned for the life he could have lived and the talents he had wasted.

Today, I reflect on these two members of the same family of mine with different titles and how they honoured their titles.

My sister Ujunwa was a wonderful daughter and great sister but an average student, while my dad was not a good father but a renowned medical doctor. We miss them both and the memories we shared with them but in our hearts Ujunwa who lived a very short life gave out a lifetime of love while my father who died at a much older age had a shorter supply of love to give.

I feel led to pen this to anyone struggling to give love, life is too short to live in hatred, work hard, love harder and celebrate the grace of God as we see each new day.

First published @ https://www.keepingmarriagealive.com/