For weeks now, I have not written a single word. I am not blocked, I just find myself staring at the keys of my laptop. I can see the words, I can visualize the reality I want to manifest but I just can't seem to lift my hand to start painting what I see.
More than a month ago, I lost my grandmother. She was old, 83 years of age and her burial was a celebration of life. It shouldn't affect me so much because as sad as it sounds, I wasn't too close to her. I grew up rarely seeing her, most times I saw her once a year, during Christmas periods when we went down to the village for the Festivities. Even when I was in the university which was closer to my village, I rarely went down to the village. I knew on some visceral level that she was family, but I guess I just figured that I had time to show her how I cherished the little time we spent together, that I had time to show her how much she meant to me.
She was the most spectacular woman I've ever met. She had the biggest heart I've ever seen on any body. I know that grand parents are supposed to have big hearts but her selflessness was too legendary in the whole village. She was the type that would go hungry to see you eat, the type that would pray for you no matter how many times you disappointed her. I could still remember the stories she told me. I could still remember her flightiness, she would be talking about one thing and then change to another without preamble. Oh, how it grated me whenever she did that. I guess that was one of the reason I didn't really get closer to her.
I shouldn't have been affected by her death. Not after all the troubles I went through to shield myself. I guess I was taken unawares. I knew on some level that she was going to die someday soon, she was old ever since I knew her, always complaining of one ailment or another. I just thought that if I didn't get close to the fire, I wouldn't get burnt by it. I wanted to preserve myself that I lost the opportunity to really know the most amazing person I've ever known. All for what? Self preservation?
I haven't found it in me to cry. No, my punishment would be easier because of it. I haven't found time to grieve yet. We buried her on Friday and I saw everyone crying, I saw her lying in that casket, without breath or form of life and I could feel my world collapsing. It's happening all over again. I never get the chance to know the people that would make my life easier.
I wanted to cry but tears came not. How could I cry? when I never even allowed myself to get close to her? I've been racked by guilt and a sense of loss. I wasted too valuable time for something that makes absolutely no sense.
But at the heart of it all, I have learnt one lesson that seems to be driving me crazy. Life's too short and I need to make the effort to know the people close to me. I need to allow people in, somehow. I want to take the risk and just let myself feel, but it's the most difficult thing I can ever imagine. I need to be more for my family.
I hope that talking about it will help. I hope that I will start writing again. I hope that I will be happy. I wish I could be less guarded, but Life Happens.