Life and I

Dear Me, Death's personality.

February 26, 2019.
Dear Me,

    Death is like a person. A person with large arms, large enough to accommodate more than 1 at a time, a person always lurking around with a cold, sly smile on his face and his arms forever outstretched. He takes pleasure in going from bed to bed of sleeping bodies with souls, souls healthy or sick, plying the roads for unsuspecting drivers in their vehicles, summoning them to his cold arms, willing them to take up his call, welcoming them to eternity.
Welcoming them to the other life and world called eternity.

He is like a person who is never paid for the job he does, but does it out of passion and desire to see eyes closed permanently, or widened at the suddenness of his unexpected arrival, to see chests heave heavily with their last breaths, to see sad, (pretending or sincere) wailing, weepy faces of those left behind by the dead that accepted his embrace invitation.

He is a person we all have to embrace, at a set day and time.
Sometimes I do wonder which day will be my death anniversary. A day of the year is the day we will die, only that we do not know it.

Death showed Aunti Temi his outstretched arms, and she took in the hug. They embraced.

Aunti Temi was my favorite aunt, what with her words of wisdom that she never failed to dish out to me through her advices and our many discussions. I called her 'Well of wisdom'. She would say things as they are and as they should be, she opened my eyes to see life as it has been, made me see how it ought to be. She was outstanding.
She pushed me to be the best.

Cancer sucks.

I only found out today, but she's been gone for two weeks now. No one had the heart to tell me.
I saw a post on Facebook, a graphic with her pictures on it, stating her burial details.
The pain, clutching and squeezing I felt on my chest, the immediate panic, the complete confusion, the impossibility of it all, the anger, all came racing in my head, fighting to take a stand in my head and heart were what came the very second I saw the post.
My heart has not beat this fast for a long time.

I am weak.
I just called my mother and she confirmed it in tears. Aunti mí tí ló o.

My beautiful auntie, my father's younger sister, who only just got married two years ago and had her first child early last year, was diagnosed with third stage blood cancer last year October. How does such happen?

I'm weaker.
My pillow is getting flooded with my tears.

Much much more later.
It's 8pm now and I have cried myself sore.
I have been unable to eat, I was hysterical at a point in time. My roommates knew her as she had come along with my parents on three occasions during my school's visiting days, and they said all the comforting words they know, prayed and invited silence.

Sleep has gone on a vacation. I keep seeing you. Especially in the 'made as though for you' ready made dress I bought for you, you are twirling.

Can I be comforted, Auntie mi?
Wake up please!
You had great desires, come on wake up!, They are waiting to be fulfilled.
So you won't ever have the opportunity to attend the conference for society and man in Canada?- Which would have been your first time out of Africa. So your degrees and journey to becoming the first female professor in neuroscience in Ghana is going into the grave with you? So your infective laughter is silenced forever? You will no longer say, "Calm down and think about it first before reacting" whenever I'm conflicted about a thing? So Seun is motherless, and uncle Sola is wifeless? So you took your words serious "I'll take your secrets to my grave. Tell me already." So I will have to wait till the last day to be with you again? So the last call I made to you last month was and is the last? You were in pains then too? And you laughed and spoke as though every single thing in the world was okay? So your sweet soul, your tiny eyes, your cute round mouth, graceful body are limp and lifeless? So the happiness and worries I could so freely share with you is now cold and lifeless? So no more calling of my nickname 'MoMo' with your singsong voice? So you are gone? For life?

All in all, I cannot imagine the pains you went through. I am consoled at the fact that there's no pain for you anymore.

Sún ré o. Temi Ajibike.
I love you forever.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Cancer really sucks.
This is for Chadwick. Rest in power Hero.
This is for the sweet souls that have been lost to cancer.
❤️

835 words.