Woke up on Saturday morning, tired (more emotionally than anyway else) and I was ready to twist my locks. All of a sudden I didn’t think it was the right thing to do (especially since I haven’t braided my hair in like a year) so I said to myself, “let me ask aunty what she thinks”, and then it hit me that we buried ‘that aunty’ the day before. Sigh.

A couple of people asked me yesterday, “how did the funeral go”, and I thought, ‘how do funerals go’? On and on and on till they are over; sad and dreadful and heart wrenching. Especially when it’s not a ‘passing on’ but a ‘painful exit’ of one so young, one so precious and loved, and so dear.

Did I twist the locks? Yeah I did, couldn’t think of anything else to do with the hair. Do I miss my aunty? Yes I do, every day.

 

Written on the 24th of August.

 

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Comments
  1. Death is a difficult change. Strength to you. I twirl my hair, especially when still thinking about my mom and dad.

    Like

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