...It is Well....

Some people live, and some people die.

The choice of who falls in what camp seems to be as random as a game of Russian roulette. Age, ethnicity, gender, income level....nothing seems to be a factor in who gets chosen, and who gets left behind. One family prays for a child for a decade, gets blessed with one, only to loose said child barely two decades later. Another family has children immediately, get to live and see the great-grand-children, offspring of the original prayer.
What is the criteria for falling into camp A versus camp B?? We, as Christians, are told to not fear death. Have faith. Don't let the fear of the unknown control you.
I must admit, in this new world, where young and old are fair game, it gets harder and harder.
Is it a new world, or am I just becoming more aware as I grow older??

My friend's brother, a school mate, passed away suddenly. I understand this logically, but I can't feel. My heart is frozen; paralysed with fear. I'm too scared to imagine the hurt, the pain, the sorrow. I'm too scared to fathom the idea that someone so young will be gone so soon. I'm too scared to accept it, cause in my head, I see the grim ripper with a lottery box, pulling out numbers at random.
I don't want to be scared, but I don't know how not to be. The days where I lived in the illusion that you cannot die till you have seen your grand-children are long gone. What happened to that little girl with all the faith??

I want to call or text, but I have no words. All I keep on hearing, all I keep on seeing are the lyrics to the song, 'It is well.' It is well, it is well, it is well, it is well.... I have no words, and so I will continue to say this prayer for her and her family. I'll say those words because I know above all else, only God knows why and He alone can heal. So, it is well.


Lord, may our children burry us; but only after we have seen, held and communed with our children's children. Lord, may we burry our fathers and mothers; but only after they have seen, held, blessed and created long lasting memories with our children. Lord, may we not mourn our children. Lord, may our children only rejoice in our parting to join you in our old age.

Florida 49

At a vigil for the victims of the Orlando shooting at my church. I don't understand what I feel. Correction. The feelings I actively avoid. If I let myself reach in a little, I feel the anger?? Sadness?? But it's similar to what I imagine I would feel when I let myself at news of terrorist attacks, or sudden loss of life....when I turn on the switch on emotions. 

There is a senselessness to this entire mess. There is a meaninglessness to the world that scares mi. It scares mi so I run from it. It scares mi so I run and hide. I run because I cannot control it. I hide because I cannot understand it. I run because staying distorts my conception of reality. Is it odd that I hurt at the thought of the level of hatred it requires for one to commit such atrocities?? Is it odd that I think of and pray for the victimizer(s), because the emptiness in their soul, the loneliness, the darkness....it is scary to imagine how cold on the inside that feels. 

But these all threaten to consume mi, so I run. 

Alive, Sorrys and R.I.P

Today, I realized we were no longer friends on Facebook. I don't know how long this has been the case for, and ironically, I don't know who unfriended whom. I say this because there was a time I wanted to delete you from my life entirely, so there is a chance I did that then. There is also a chance you did the unfriending, in which case, anytime in the last couple of months will be a fair guess.  

What struck mi wasn't the fact that we were no longer friends, (as that has been evident for a while now), but how petty and unchristian I have been about the entire ordeal. True, I transitioned from being mad to disliking to not carrying to being neutral where you were concerned. But I was mean in the things I said about you. 

For that I truly am sorry. 

It's not that I want to 'fix' things or become friends again. I don't think our personalities align for that or that it is necessary. But the negative comments were uncalled for and for that, I am sorry. 

How you choose to live your life and what you choose to do really are not my concern or for mi to comment on. We are strangers who go to school together to be fair. I can't comment on the things you do because I don't know you. 

So I am sorry for everything this far. Quite certain you won't see this. Quite certain there is no point talking about this. But I do promise, to myself and God at least, that if I have nothing good to say, I won't say anything at all. I sincerely wish you well here on out, and I hope this reflects in my attitude and behaviour as well. I'm not doing this for you, but so I can look myself in the mirror and be okay. 

xo

How do you feel??

Such a wierd question. Following a loss, asking those left behind 'how do you feel??' 'How are you doing??' and the likes is such a strange human act. What is the appropriate response?? Fine?? So so?? No feelings?? I don't know?? I'm sad?? I'm angry?? 

How do you think or expect the person to feel in that situation?? Is that a retorical question?? 

It's confusing, upsetting and tiresome. Makes one want to avoid others. 

But like humans, we need something to say in all situations. Such a wierd yet normative act people indulge in. 

Mad at it All.

I'm tired of shedding tears.
I'm tired of writing tributes.
More so, I am sick and tired of doing both for people so young.
A parent shouldn't have to bury his or her child, neither should a child have to bury his or her parent without the grandchild by the side. God's promise says we would live to see our children's children.

I'm tired of hearing of cancer.
I'm tired of hearing of how lives so precious, so promising, are cut short as a result of it.
Coming without notice. Causing pain, grief and harm; giving a false hope of recovery, then snatching the hope and replacing it with a gut-wrenching agony.

I'm tired of the dread.
I'm tired of hearing a friend/school mate has 'the virus', then round of 50/50 that follows.
I'm tired of hoping, praying, wishing and stressing, while a terrifying shadow of the grim reaper hunts my view.
With no preventive recipe and no full proof treatment, its a fight between the devil and the deep blue sea, both one and the same, with only a faint distant ray of help.

Its not a person so one cannot hate it.
Its not a person so one cannot yell at it.
Its not a person so one cannot call a jury, find guilty and pass judgment upon it.

I guess I'm just tired today. Maybe because I just wrote two tributes to a very promising life cut short. Maybe because its the third time in less than 3 years. Maybe because I'm in the mood to dwell on the fact that life is such an unfair little b at times.

In the morning I'd feel better. In the morning I'd hope and pray again, because there is really nothing else to do.
For now, I am tired. So I'd just sit here and cry myself to sleep.

xo
 

Vengeful

I run and run.
Faster.
Faster.
But it seems the farther I go, the closer she appears.
Mocking me.
Teasing me.
The vengeful wench.
Loving none.
Respecting none.
Fearing none.
She has the power to take.
And take she does.
Never satisfied.
Forever hungry, she takes.
She takes until there is nothing left to take.
And then she takes some more.
Laughing in my face.
Bitter.
Uncaring.
Faster.
Faster.
I run and run.

Giving Thanks - December 10th

A few hours ago, I thought this post was going to be depressing, considering the fact that I just heard of the loss of an uncle, and that it seems to be annually so (is that a correct English sentence?). I haven't liked December for a while now (still don't really), which is sad considering it is a month of thanksgiving for the coming of our savior. It's mostly because over the years, the season has been associated with more tears than laughter for mi. 

Then it occurred to mi that just a year after the crash, the memorial song I wrote (will be posted after this) was not one of sorrows, but of thanks. Somehow, I was able to find somethings to be thankful for. So in keeping with the spirit of that time, and taking a step in the positive direction, I decided to make myself think positive for this year's tribute. Rather than be sad, I want to give thanks.

Give thanks to God for the two lives spared. 

Give thanks to God for the lives of the 60.

Give thanks to God that our paths crossed and I was able to meet them.

Give thanks to God for the blessings they brought with their presence and even in their absence.

Give thanks to God for the lessons we learned from their short lives.

Give thanks to God for the smiles we get when we remember then in different ways.

Give thanks to God for the love He allowed us share and experience in their short time on earth. 

Give thanks to God for the comfort He has given since that faithful day.

Give thanks to God for the depressing void he has filled with good memories since.

Give thanks to God for the continuos healing. 

Give thanks to God for the strength He has bestowed upon us all to continue to carry on.

And above all else,

Give thanks to God for the promise of eternal life, which gives us hope of meeting them again. 

Remembering our angels on this day, December 10th, 2013:

Kene Abba, Kelechi Adaka, Busayo Adebolu, Leke Adewoga, Boluwarim Adeyemi, Gabriella Aikhiobare, Wole Ajilore, Obongawan Akpan, Agu Akwiwu, Owanari Amachree, Chisom Awaji, Uzoma Awaji, Vivian Baa, Toke Badru, Chinenye Chigbo, Fanye Daniel-Kalio, Helena Edet, Chineonye Egbosimba, Uzo Egwele, Udeme Ekefre, Aniefon Ekereuwem, Amanze Ekwem, Ibra Ellah, Sandra Gbemudu, Nnanna Ibiam, Nnamdi Idabor, Chuka Ilabor, Nkem Ilabor, Buso Ilabor, Silvia Iroghama, Chibuzo Kamanu, Emma Loolo, Chiweoke Mba, Ijeamaka Mba, Augustine Monago, Linda Njoku, Obioma Nkaginieme, Ubani Nkaginieme, Chidera Nnaji, Ebuka Nnebedum, Emma Ntemuse, Hadiza Nwadei, Chioma Nwigwe, Stephanie Nwoko, Chidinma Nzelu, Adachi Nzenwa, Chidinma Okafor, Zikora Okafor, Ibiso Okemini, Onyeka Okereke, Daniel Okpe, Chris Olakpe, Whitney Orbih, Mayowa Oyebode, Jachimike Tony-Okeke, Ifeanyi Ubah, Richard Udeozor, Uzo Ugochukwu, Chigoziri Ukairo and Peter Utuk

Thinking of you yesterday, today and forever. In our hearts always

RIP

Bad Habit

I have this bad habit of searching through my newsfeed for news of deaths in December. Its so strenuous on my nerves, because it feels like I am holding my breath through the entire month, waiting for some news to come up. I always expect at least 3 - Hollywood, the world and close to home. I think it was one of the side effects of December 10th for mi, among the many others. Ah, just realized what I want to write for my tribute tomorrow. Funny, it is a little different from what I had expected myself to think of. 

xo

The Last of the '-ember' Months

    There are some people you know and think of, and you don't put them and death in the same scene. I mean you know, at the back of your mind somewhere, that everyone would die someday. But these people just don't come to mind when you see an RIP or hear of a person's passing. 
I always dread December.
Maybe its because of December 10th, or the fact that in the last 3/4 years, I have lost someone close between around this time, or the superstition behind the '-ember' months, but December has always been my least favorite month. Sad too, being that it is Christmas' month and all. 

Just heard a friend of my dad passed away. He was one of those people I mentioned above. The ones you just don't associate with death. Even more so with his death. He simply slumped. 

Such an odd thing death is. One minute you are talking to someone, and the next minute, they are not there anymore. 

This hurt more because I had the unfortunate and unexpected job of breaking the news to my mum. 'That's impossible', she said, 'We were together only last week.' 
His wife said he woke up in the morning and slumped. 

Its so scary this month. Almost feels like the rounding up of a chess game. Where the pieces move randomly and unexpectedly. 
The lonesomeness of death is most scary. Scarier still if you already feel alone. 

Praying that this year shall not close with anymore loved ones, and we shall only celebrate the Joy that is the Lord's birth in this season.

Praying for comfort to the families that have lost loved ones this season.

Praying for us all. 

RIP Soldier

Death is such an untimely guest. 

One minute alls well, and the next its here. Hard to grasp, difficult to understand. Unwanted yet unavoidable. Unplanned yet unstoppable.

How is it not unfair that one so bright and beautiful, gets life cut short so abruptly with no explanation or planning. 

On the one hand, you do want to meet many people in life, to get touched by the blessings they are and hope to touch them so in the end. 

On the other hand, you don't want to meet many people in life, for there is a greater chance of you getting hurt in the end. 

I digress.

This is an Ode to a classic being, to a bright light and a wonderful human being. I met you for a short time but even from the distance I was privileged to be blessed by your beautiful soul. 

RIP Emeka Mbakwe....another Angel

....To live is to have loved and be loved....

Death of a Flower

And the flower was spotted, 
it was watered,
it was nourished. 
It grew tall and handsome. 

Strong and swayed with the wind. 

And the flower blossomed, it was beautiful. 

We all loved it, we all admired it. 

We all wanted to stand next to it. 

Then the flower died.

It was pretty,  full of brightness the other day, and now it is no more.

It was envied, standing tall with pride, and now its is no more.

It was protected, surrounded by love and affection, and now it is no more.


And the flower was born, lived and grew.
And the flower was born, grew and died. 


And the flower was. 

The Door Way

What would it be like to hold death and life in your hands? To have a person in your arms, as they are dying. One minute they are there, the next minute, gone. The life leaves them while they are still in your arms. 
Do you feel it?? I mean is there a feeling that transcribes the hollowness that just became of that person?? Do you feel the empty shell as it looses its core, like you do when a bottle becomes empty?? Is there a difference in what you see or feel of the person one second while they are alive and the next after death??


If there was a difference, would you want to feel it?? Would you want to tell when the life is gone by the feel or rather remain in a state of unknown?? Granted its pretty obvious when a person dies, they stop breathing. But what else, aside from the heart and breathing, lets you know that life has left the building?? 


Doctors get a chance to come close to this, as they have life and death in their hands. But still, doctors never actually feel the life leave for the most part, right?? They don't hold the patient in their arms through the process of dying, do they?? So technically, they can only speculate. Sure they can tell you the feeling of loosing a patient but thats it, no??


I guess when it comes down to it, what I want to know is what does death feel like, without actually experiencing it of course. Not till I am old BGG at least....What does it feel like at the door. Not to die, but to feel death happening. 

She

Transfixed between earth and the after life,
The gate way: revered, feared, misunderstood.
She stands there, spread out, without notice.
She demands, she cares and all must fall in.


The whispers of her name ring across the world,
The tales of her powers are as old as God's first.
She can bring a nation to it's knees with one strike,
She can set freedom to the captives with one blow.


Tempting seductress, she entices many,
Taxing master, she terrorizes the rest.
She bleeds fear out from her pores.
She rides the world between her illusive hips.


There is not one who has or can resist her seductive melodies,
There stands one alone to have returned from her unknown.
She stands proud. Ageless, timeless, forever to be till she is undone. 
She is death, cold and divine.