Woke up in utter frustration today. I had once again seen Mena in my dream.
It’s always the same dream. I would be at work or somewhere far from home and she would call and say she was back.
I would say ok, im coming but throughout the dream, I would not go to her till I woke up
First, it was fun as I really didn’t mind her coming back, and in the dream, I would be struggling to rush home to be with her, but no matter how hard I tried, I wouldn’t make it.
Then it started coming very regularly. It now is about twice a week and I am getting worried
This is not the first time I have experience with a loved one that has passed
Uche was my man. My very first tight buddy. He was handsome light-skinned and very intelligent
The first to gain admission into the University of Port Harcourt
But he had a star-crossed life and was marked to leave early.
We didn’t know as we all had fun and did what young teenagers did in Shomolu
We roved around the place with our Leader, Lambert smoked, played Whot, played football and showed the girls one thing or two about life
Then he died in a ghastly motor accident and refused to leave me
He would come in my dreams and say – ohh boy you dey miss, this place fine die
And I will say – you mean it?
The dreams followed me for over 10 years after he passed and his handsome face would just flash from nowhere
Then Mena passed. Her beautiful fresh skin is the last thing I remember of her
I had never seen such a beautifull body in passing. Her exquisite dentition, her full breast and straight legs and her gleaming forehead
I hugged her and just whimpered not knowing what to tell Alvin cos he called immediately she took her last breath
The sorrow is heavy. It was a mortal blow that made it look like I didn’t have any other reason to live
I have a huge family, a beautiful spread of children and people I love who also love me, so I can now not let them down by allowing this sorrow to weigh me down or make me want to jump off the bridge
But as a man, I must allow some weakness. So I cry and mourn and cry and throw myself on the wall esp as Alvin hits milestones that I know she would have celebrated with glee
Why are u not asking for money, you have been back for a week – I ask her this night
I don’t need money, I’m ok, Alvin is coming, are you coming – she asks
Let me finish what I’m doing, I’ll soon be on my way – I reply
But as usual, I woke up without going to see her
This time, I’m not happy I saw her. The regularity of the dream is becoming a source of worry
Did I not bury her well? Am I not taking care of her child well? Is there something I should do that I am not doing
I reached out to my confidant, and she said I should give out her possessions and that I should have done that 40 days after her departure.
True. I had locked up all she had left in a room and barred anybody from entering
Only I would enter once in a long while to just go through the stuff and maybe connect
Like most women, she was a collector and hoarder. From toasters to microwaves to printers to pans, pots, Owambe accessories, shoes, lace, makeup and her rings.
She loved her parties and didn’t joke with them – Edgar J, Life is too short as she would scream at me when I called and hear Fuji music playing in the background.
She had plenty of fake rings. She had once busted my Blackberry and saw that I had written a poem to her friend on that birthday and was mad
It was a harmless poem, but Mena would not have any of that; in anger, she sold the gold ring I bought for her at Macy’s in New York to ‘add money to pack out of your useless house’.
I warned her and said – you know you are angry if you sell that ring, I will never buy you another she sold and I never bought her another one.
So she would buy one fake ring after the other, not wanting to spend good money to buy a real one cos – Edgar J will soon replace it on his next trip.
When we went to America – the last time we ever travelled before she passed – she would use style and be pointing ring and I would say so you can sell when next you see me stare at another woman’s bum
So my confidant says, I should look for a charity to give out the things.
I wanted to hand them over to Alvin when he was 18; he is 17 now, and the dreams won’t stop coming, and I’m getting scared.
Uche kept coming until Mena passed – they were friends- after which he gave her space to continue haunting me
The loss of a spouse is a different kind of pain. Some days, you can handle it. Other days, you just want to bury yourself in a hole and beg for help.
My confidant provides a strong buffer as I run there for refuge and just say – help.
I can never wish the pain of the passing of a young and vibrant spouse to my worst Enemy; it’s a burden almost too heavy to carry.
Mena, try to rest in peace, my darling. Just rest, no vex.
Thanks
Duke of Shomolu
