Tears
enormously drift down my cheeks as I write this piece with my heart blazing
from the innermost, telling me that henceforth; I will spend the rest of my
life here on earth without my loving, caring, and encouraging mother.
Will I
over overcome the mind riddling and sad event that occurred on Sunday, the 4th
of February, 2024? It is really an irreparable loss which has orchestrated a
vacuum that cannot be filled.
I make
bold to say that my mum was one of the strongest, bravest, and kindest human
beings to grace the earth. She was a staunch teacher and devout catholic that
held several leadership positions in the Catholic Church.
She was
everything to me and there is no way I can ever completely quantify her impact
in my life.
My
mother, Maria, was the best mother a person can ask for. It is certain that
death is inevitable and everyone has death coupon already issued depending on
when, where and how it will happen. We will all embark on that eternal journey
someday, but I never anticipated my mum’s own soon. I knew that she would pass on one day, but I
never expected it soon.
The
sorrow of losing a very loving mother is gargantuan. It is an emotionally
severe one. My mother, Maria, I am really saddened and grieving at your demise.
It has made me and my siblings parentless, having lost of our lovely dad 31
years ago.
You
were hale and hearty in the first week of January when I was going back to my
base in Lagos, after celebrating the last Christmas and New Year with you.
I can
regurgitate what you told me that broke my heart when I called you on the phone
before you went to the hospital.
“Nnaemeka,
remember me in prayers so that I will enjoy the fruits of my labour from you
and your siblings. Someone who has finished suffering has to enjoy what she
suffered for. I do not know what brought about this kind of sickness,” you
said.
Little
did I know that your departure from this earth was fast approaching. The pain
of losing you to the cold hands of death in very excruciating, in view of the
fact that as your first-born, I was just 13 and your last-born was just 3-month
old when our father passed on.
Uncowed
by the vicissitudes of life as a very young widow, you stood firm for me and my
siblings and fittingly filled the yawning vacuum precipitated by the early
demise of our father.
Single-handedly,
you toiled and trained all of us up to the university level, from your meager
salary as a teacher. Now that it is time for you to relax and enjoy the
dividends of your labour, death came for you.
The pain is harrowing.
Anyway,
I take solace in the fact that you lived a good life, a life that we are all
proud of. Since you passed on, testimonies of your humongous and cyclopic
upstandingness have been reverberating in every nook and cranny of the state
and beyond.
My
mother, Maria,, you have been the provenance of my courage, and equally a
strapping pillar upon which I rest. I passionately pray that all your wishes
and prayers for us, your children, during your lifetime continue to follow us
until our last breath.
Once
again, I appreciate all those who have been standing with us at the time of our
grief. Your presence here at the burial,
your prayers and commiserations via calls, text massages, and on social media
were overwhelming, calming, and encouraging.
Honestly,
I cannot thank you enough, but I pray to God to reward you copiously.
Adieu
Mum!!! Continue to Rest in Peace until we meet to path no more.
Ugwokeh
Nnaemeka
First
son.
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