I’m sitting in church and instead of listening to Pastor Mrs Obi Ekwueme, I’m blogging about my late aunty. Feels funny that I’m using ‘late’ for her. I know she’s in heaven, I imagine the angelic beings must be struggling to close to her, vivacious and funny as she is. I imagine she’ll probably ask the angels over to her mansion for meals, and feed them fat as she did us.
I remember Sunday the 21st of July like it was yesterday. I had been to church, had a great time in the presence of God, got home, had lunch, my day went well, nothing out of the ordinary. Went to bed about 11pm but I couldn’t sleep. Kept on waking up intermittently, even thought I was hungry at some point, but I wasn’t.
Fell asleep about 2.43am or something, and I was up by 5, 5.22am to be exact. That’s when I saw the text, “the doctor says she’s gone”. That was the beginning of a very horrible period I didn’t think I’d get through, and countless questions, some of which I still don’t have answers.
It’s been a month plus since she passed, and as I start to tie p some loose ends on her behalf, I still feel like I’ll wake up one morning and she’ll be sat by my bed to visit me like she used to do.
I miss her.
Written on the 25th of August