TO EACH THEIR OWN!

 

DEATH!

Maybe a name came up when you read it; Keziah and Kinuthia came to mind. I will write about Kinuthia another time, for some reason I loved this man a lot. Well, story for another day. So, who dies? What is death? Do we know when we die or do we just wake up as usual in our dreams and continue living without knowing we died? Do we still meet our loved ones in that “place”?

You might have your definition of death, but I believe that death comes to those who are left behind. The ones who loved and cared for the gone person are the ones who die. Sadly, a woman I love recently lost someone she loved; she broke down. Another friend lost his sibling and I watch his stories knowing what I will find. Another lost her joy; she called them that and the world lost her eccentric laughter [ for some strange reason I enjoy listening to her laugh].

A certain man told me, “To each, their own” and my whole life came to a still. Have I been living right? Have I been judging people just because they made slightly different choices than I would have? TO EACH THEIR OWN; (If I lack another title then I’ll name this piece this.) You will never truly know anyone unless you walk in their shoes. I watched “Forrest Gump” and he said, “You can tell an awful lot about a person by their shoes; where they go, where they’ve been…” and it had me questioning how I had viewed life.

If God was a man, (He can never be, but let’s move past this), would I be willing to wear His shoes? When we lose those that we l

ove, we tend to ask Him some difficult questions. Why? How could you? What am I supposed to do now? He/ She had dreams so what now?... I am not supposed to measure God with my understanding or perception but still, that seems tough considering the fact that He also loves us; so how is it for Him too? But I think we are too selfish to have this conversation hence we can leave it as rhetoric. I hate how much our faith is shaken when we lose someone or maybe it is human to question what we don’t like…

Now, Sunday mornings, I just sleep in

It's like I buried my faith with you

I'm screamin' at a God, I don't know if I believe in

'Cause I don't know what else I can do

 

But death happening to the ones we love and care for while they still live is a hard pill to swallow. You have no idea how to save them, so you watch them break, you watch them have small moments of fickle happiness then they remember something and they go back to that sad state you were trying to get them out of. You watch them break and wither and finally they try to cope with their own ways and many a time this dark place gets darker and gloomier. They do not want to acknowledge that they have lost because this acknowledgment means you have accepted and I am at a point in my life where acceptance is the hardest choice I have to make.

I'm still holdin' on to everything that's dead and gone

I don't wanna say goodbye, 'cause this one means forever

Now you're in the stars and six-feet's never felt so far

Here I am alone between the heavens and the embers

 

 People who die get to live again in our memories, but I think this is very hard to accept. So you mean I will never hear them laugh? So you mean I won’t give them a call anymore? So you mean I have to live with the memory of them loving me? Whoah, this is tough. I am between a rock and a hard place [or is between a hard place and a rock]; but what should we do? Acceptance means I know it but I think it also means I should let it go; I am not willing to let it go! I want to stay in my dark place and think about them, and cry and sleep and dream about them and cry and seclude and become numb to life and maybe join them and leave us here… dying… because you have also left us.

Then what should we do when we lose someone? It brings me back to shoes, we all wear a different pair, a different make, a different color and I think this is how life is; we all get to deal with it in our own way. I pray that we can be enveloped by people who refuse to leave us when we lose anyone and are questioning everything. May we accept love and care that will come in any form. May we not seclude ourselves and let us watch the birds and the sun and the clouds and the stars and the moon and the and the …

Some people know me as an irreverent person and I am slowly accepting this; we do live in or on a hanging rock in space. We can get all the physics and math to explain this but it all looks like a fairy tale with the clouds in it; I once saw clouds that look like a dog; how that came to be I don’t know. Maybe life is a prologue to our actual lives and maybe when we die we get to carry our notes with us to start living, but hey this is my analogy.

Also, I am not marketing this 3-in-1 Nescafe coffee, but it is good. I live for these moments where I can drink it and write and listen to music; this is what life should be; When my prologue comes to an end, I hope the author ensures I am born as a second son and I can waste away in a library with books and music and maybe their version of this coffee. Why a second son? I can leave that to your understanding.

Anyways, peace, love, and asimio (May I remember the banter when I re-read this as an old man) This made me laugh, a lot.

Love,

Thairu