Grieving 101: Packing Up

Packing up my mother's things was the hardest thing I've had to do this year.
First, it didn't feel right going through her things, opening up boxes, drawers, handbags.
I felt like she was gonna come in anytime and ask -why are you going through my things?-

My heart felt heavy, weighty. I knew I needed to do it but I needed help.

Some ten years over ago, my mother's sister got sick and died. I wasn't told until the day I finished my KCSE exams. 
(Though a classmate who had finished her exams earlier and knew about it had had the brilliant idea to send me a condolence card with a warning not to open until my exams were over. Of course I could see the words sorry for your loss as plain as day through the envelope. I know I made a mess of my remaining papers but oh well, it was well meaning.)

My aunt was very beautiful. Among my shushu's daughters I thought aunt Wangeci was the most beautiful one and it didn't help that she was a beautician and knew exactly which brand of ponds to use. When I was small I would stare at her until she shouted at me to stop it. 

Aunt Wandia, Aunt Wangeci, My mother

After a stint in South Africa she came back and a few years later she fell sick and died.
When I came home, to the house she had shared with my mother, I found a pile of clothes dumped behind the house.
Her death had disoriented the family so much and I guess no one thought much about her clothes.
Her clothes.
She had beautiful clothes. 
She wore silks, and now they were in a pile. Rain had soaked them through, then the sun had created streaks of stains across the once expensive fabric.
I remember thinking, death takes away someone's dignity.

This was the thought I had when mummy died.
So I wanted to preserve her dignity.
I wasn't going to bleh bleh until one day I would come back to the house and find perhaps a 
strip of a favourite shirt of hers flapping against the gate.
Or perhaps a note she had written 
Or worse, her furniture soaking in the Tropical rain.

When stuff happens, that's when you really know the kind of people you need around you. It's the people who show up. 
I rang a friend and she came right away and we created a system.

Things to take to Shushu 
Things for me to keep
Things to give away
Things to burn
Then Malembi came and made us lunch and my little cousins who are not so little any more came and helped unscrew beds and burn trash. My mother's cousins came too and I didn't  have a moment to be alone.
It was three days of pure fatigue, but I was grateful that when I needed volunteers Jehovah sent them. 
I cried a lot saying goodbye to the house that has been my weekend getaway since I came to live in Nairobi.

I have always imagined I would leave that house as a bride. My mother would be in a peach colored dress, the fussy neighbours would ask if we could afford a fancy wedding. 

I guess that's not happening now.



What I have learned: 

1. You never know how a particular death affects someone until it happens to  you.
(I feel really bad for friends who have lost parents in the past and I just said pole and moved on with my life)

2. If someone I 
know losses a loved one, I will have to be there with them, physically.

Self Care: Gratitude releases positive energy

John 13:34,35

I woke up feeling grateful this morning.
The last four days I've had people stay with me in shifts.
I sank last week, I was angry.

But the rescue team arrived.

Each with a band aid for each part of my heart that was aching.
I recovered my sleep.
Someone came and cleaned my kitchen
Another cooked for me
Another brought me apples
I woke up surrounded by bread.

Others washed my floor
A little girl sat with me in sign language meetings
Then an avalanche of mixed company arrived with bags and hugs
And I felt like I'm gonna be okay.
Not 100% but I fully know that my creator is aware of my wanderings.

I am not an insignificant organism roaming the earth unattended.
' with someone loyal you are loyal.'
This evening I am happy.

When you are grateful, good things keep coming.

This morning I received a text from my mother's opposite neighbour. She comforted me and said she wanted to send me cash. She sent the exact amount I needed to pay off my November rent. 
Then I got another call.
'You don't know me but I was your mum's friend. I owed her some cash, Now that I have your number I will send you. Keep strong.'
And she did.
'With God everything is possible.'
I know my life is not a waste of space. I know Jehovah cares about me.
I will tell my mother the things people did for her.
That she had not been a waste of space as well.
Her good deeds follow her.

I have no reason to be angry, 
or be too anxious, or try to find comfort where it's non existent.


Now that I realise real love is not forced. 
It is easy and comfortable. And it knows exactly what needs to be done.

Irene's Army

I woke up enraged.
I felt the heavy weight of injustice on my head and I was very sure I wasn't going to settle until I had done everything in my ability to ensure my mother's days of going without lunch, rainy mornings trying to catch a train ride did not vanish without an explanation.

I guess my heart started burning when after going to her work place, I realized the magnitude of injustice I was tackling , but then I realized I wasn't alone.

We are sitting in this office with people who worked alongside my mother every day, 5,10,20, years and they are telling me
"If you want us to turn Twitter for Irene, just say. "

I am not much in person but I have never been unable to write.
So I sat and composed a letter that would have made any raised eye brow raise both.
It made their ears ring as well I'm sure.

My article about the issue received the highest views for  my articles this year and I decided to pull it down from Facebook.
To give the raised eye brow a second chance
But the comments kept coming and the phone calls.

People ready to close their offices to go with me wherever I need to go today
People getting up at five to go to my house and bring my wallet because I forgot it in my other bag
People picking up calls for me because I'm not aware the phone is ringing
People holding me tightly at the morgue in case I collapse, until my sides hurt

Justice was served, although post humously
But one thing I wasn't gonna sit around and allow is
' they defrauded my mother when she lived, but not when she was no longer around to speak for herself.'

It hurts to think of the sense of loss she must have felt.
The lack of trust
The shock
The helplessness
The fear
And the thought she had before she died, that her life's efforts had been completely burned up in a fire.

I will tell her when she is resurrected, I fought for you, though
With trembling hands and repressed tears.
And I Had an army behind me.

Guest Post: Tribute to a Dead Tree

I know a dead tree. It is dead for most of the year. Sometime in September it blossoms. This is the first step towards the growth of plums. After the flowers, come the leaves then the plums then at some point it returns to looking like a dead tree.

I know a "dead tree". For most of the "year" - she looks like she needs to be cut down - she is "a waste of space". She would be better off as "firewood". A certain rough season comes and she blossoms.
She is exactly like those trees that are still standing after a hurricane ripped through an area. The hurricane season is her season to blossom.

Most of the year she looks dead. Easy to ignore or dismiss. Only after the hurricane does it become apparent that she had deep roots. She has resilience. She has staying power. This is the definition of endurance. It can mean "stand one’s ground; persevere; remain steadfast..."

Hurricane season is her season.

I went to visit this dead tree as she was "blossoming".  This is what I observed.

• She loves her God. He also didn't hide his love for her during the "hurricane season".
• She loves her family. Her family loves her. You should hear her laugh from way deep down her stomach when she is with them. She is so relaxed and carefree with them.
• She brandishes a machette or a panga effortlessly while in the shamba (farm). She chooses and cuts (more accurately harvests) maize (corn), cabbage, onions, pumpkin, grass you name it. It is not a weapon but a tool in skilled hands when she uses it.
• She is so generous
• She loves animals. There is a dog called Tom - who had not seen her for months but follows her wherever she goes. When she disappears in the corn farm , all she has to do is call him and he appears. She told me what they have is "true love". :-) 
• She is a bully. No one is off limits. Not even her cucu (grandmother)
• She really does stop to smell the flowers. Every plant worth smelling. She stopped to smell. I got a chance to pick some eucalyptus because of her.
• She skips. Yes. She does. :-) When we went for a walk - she was skipping as we went down the hills.
• She enjoys simple things. I like simple things. I like her. Good conversation overlooking a waterfall and singing. What more would you want?

Without the hurricane season - you would not know she is not a "dead tree". She has deep roots.

I love you my "dead tree". Keep "blossoming".

https://pattikay.blogspot.com/2019/10/a-tribute-to-dead-tree.html

The Fatherless Race: My mummy was a lioness, "I have a lioness inside me that I keep on a tight leash."

"Are you taking my picture?" Asked Mummy.
"No, it's the books behind you," I said.

Then she took out her phone and took a picture of me, then I took one with her phone,
Then we just sat.
She had had a horrid morning at her bank.
After 32 years slaving away at physically draining job her savings earnings and benefits had found their way into someone's online account and vanished.
She said she had reported it.
I didn't pry
But she got sorrowful day by day
Until they told me pneumonia had taken her life.
My mother had lost her life.


When my mother went on retirement, she had two major plans. She was going to relocate to the USA and she had everything laid out. I thought it was hilarious but many conversations after I realised nothing would stop her.

I guess the moment came after she had renewed her driving license. I thought man, this woman is set.
And knowing her spirit, the same stubborn spirit I have inherited, I took her shopping for thermal heat preserving vests in preparation for winter.

Then she said to me, do you think this phone will help you in your work?  I said yeah but don't feel you have to. She loved her phone so giving it up would mean a better offer was out there, in Trump's kingdom.

The last time I met my mother, she was late than our agreed time.
So I asked her to meet me in Kikuyu town. I wanted her opinion deciding a location for Cisster Salon. She said she was tired so We went to crave kitchen.

My mother loves fine things. She was blown away, she said the chefs were dressed right, the decor must have been done by an international designer and insisted the owner could not be local. I pointed Tom out.

She said: haiya that one with dreads?
She looked around and said she wanted to have a look at the toilet. She came back grinning saying how awesome the place was but would I stop telling her to have the soup Coz she only wanted another mug of tea if I would buy it?
I should have asked if she wanted another samosa.
We talked.
She had had a horrific experience at equity bank that morning.
I didn't probe
But now that she is dead and I have had a look at her documents.. It's no wonder she only wanted tea that day. Me, I would have collapsed right away.

I have been feeling like I'm gonna get blown away anytime now.
It's a feeling I have never had before.
Losing the only parent I have pains a lot.


Losing my mother now, this year on top of everything else just proves how ruthless Satan is.
Satan has no mercy.
But my friend wrote a blog post for me:
https://pattikay.blogspot.com/2019/10/a-tribute-to-dead-tree.html


My mother's back up plan was to try farming. She was gonna buy a big tank and store water. Then she would look after grandmother.
 I know she would have raised a couple of dogs as well.

Today I'm thankful for the time I spent with mummy in the short time she was on retirement. She made effort to come see me and reassure me. She embraced vulnerability when she accepted my offer to take her to the dentist in August. She was scared of dentists.
I laughed when she said after ' ah ona rītiuma na ruo.' Then she gave me a thousand Bob to pick up my aunt arriving from the village.
I thought it was a bribe for my silence, not to say she was scared of a tooth extraction.

But this is for a short while. I know my mother will get up in future.
Meanwhile, I will try and get some rest.
I will follow up what my mother tried to resolve before death caught up with her. When my anger subsides.
I am angry at a debased society that preys on its defenseless members.
I'm angry at a society that discards it's members when their value has diminished.
I am angry at this old world, and I hate it. May your kingdom come please.
I am assured of one thing though:
Psalms 37:10

Just a little while longer, and the wicked will be no more;You will look at where they were,And they will not be there.

Jehovah will soon undo every injustice that we have suffered in satan's wicked world.
Isaiah 65:17
The former things will not be called to mind.