Call Me “Small Mommy”

A friend’s mom passed away just a few days ago; and naturally- as you would assume and indeed expect any human being to feel about this- she is grieving.

..and it made me think: The cause of her grief..

No one ever really gives birth wishing to cause a beloved one grief.
No one ever really thinks about death when bringing forth life.
And yet, we start dying the moment we are the most alive: on the day we are born.
There and then starts the journey of life: the journey of discovering who you are, the journey towards death.

Now, her loss made me think..

It made me remember her background.
Her unknown, absent father.
Her search for identity.
Aspects of her lifestyle I vehemently disapproved of.
Her own worries and struggles I could not always understand or relate to.

And so, in an attempt to cheer her up, I suggested she suck at my nipples (proverbially, that is.. if that even is a proverb)

You can call me small mommy.. 😀

I know I’ll make a great mom; a fun-loving and exciting disciplinarian. A role-model, a teacher, a preacher, a coach.
I’m going to be so totally awesome when the time comes. I was going to practice my skills well, with/on her but she would not have it..
I think it might be this Nigerian respect/age-thing in her (she’s but two weeks older than me)… pride?

Be it as it may, I obviously I really just wanted to make her smile. She laughed and I took playffence (offence that is really only acted: in play),

Why are you laughing? Am I not equal to the task?!

Well, of course I was not ever going to be equal to the task of playing her mother.
No one will, or could, or should. That’s why everyone is but given one.

I’ve said it before, I really do not understand death. When you are used to moving around and losing friends along the way, the notion of death becomes, well, strange.
You form a bond and move on. Love a city just to leave it. Start a friendship knowing you will one day have to break it. I don’t know. Right now death really seems like another move, chapter. You somehow know/think/believe/feel the other is still there, somehow, somewhere.

Personally, and this is a fact, I know my parents and siblings will live forever. Literally, physically. I am really not interested in any historic evidence, but my family has what is termed eternal genes. There is no death in us. Not mentally, not spiritually, not realistically, and certainly not physically.

Her status read,

I had great plans for you.

Plans of making you proud and comfortable. Plans of bringing you glory and shame. Plans of making sure none of your pain was in vain.
I sighed. She died of malaria. Not a cancer, not an accident. Not an attack (per se), not a long-lasting ailment.. No, malaria. It almost seems trivial.

Sometimes we live so far in the future, we do not see what is today, right now. The certain small but real pleasures we are blessed with on a daily basis.
The opportunity to love, and laugh, and live, and grow. The opportunity to make our parents proud today, right now, this very moment.
By doing and living and being our best, right now. Not when we are older, wiser, wealthier.. but right now.

She marks the third friend to have lost a parent in the past five years.
And all I see in the eyes of my friends today are tears, fears, regrets.

Oh, that we may not be awakened by death.

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