Sometimes God calms the
storms in our lives, but sometimes he just rides them with us. Either way,
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
A
couple of weeks ago, I was honoured to stand before and speak to a group of
mothers' who have left or are considering leaving their full time jobs to raise
their children. At the event I mentioned to those present that mum through our
children drove all us children, all five of us, to school and back right till
when we finished high school. She never missed a sports day, a swimming gala, a
visiting day, a concert. Everyone present at the event gave my mum a standing
ovation. Everyone acknowledged that we truly were raised by the best!
As
I reflect on my mother's memory I am so blessed to have had her in my life. She
was my special blessing, she showed me what real love felt like and looked
like. If no one else ever loves me in this life, I know that I have been blessed
to have felt love.
The day my mom passed
on was a day such as this. Nothing out of the ordinary. Joe checked her into
hospital at about 10.00am in the morning. My mother was a stickler for time.
Unfortunately, I have never been. By the time I got there Joe and Mum had
already been admitted and booked into a shared ward with three beds. We walked
her there and put her neatly packed set of bags into the drawers and sat on the
bed waiting. A nurse walked in and we all looked at her expectantly as she
marveled asking “Kwani nani ndiyo mgonjwa hapa?” I suppose to her we all didn’t
look quite like her usual patients. Mom giggled in her usual humility and said
“Ni mimi”. The nurse, who by the choice of God shared a name with me, Janet,
brought her the hospital attire. The last time my Mom was in a hospital gown
was in 1988 when she had Joe; obviously she couldn’t figure out the gown, and I
helped her get it done. Noting her discomfort, I poked fun at her. I said “Eh
Mum, of all the uniforms they could give you, they chose Milimani Primary?” In
reference to the brown gown. We had a good laugh. Joe who was chatting with my
elder brother Ronn on whatsapp took out his phone and started taking pictures
of us. At that point, mum leaned over the curtain and greeted the lady in the
bed next to hers jovially “Habari Ya Jirani?” The lady who seemed to be in a
lot of pain managed a smile and responded “Mzuri!”. A little while later, I
thought that she may get cold and decided to run down to my house to get her a
pair of socks and an extra blanket. As Joe and I left to make a quick dash to
the house, my mum asked us to fetch her bible from her bag for her to read while
we were away.
So we went to fetch
some socks and those who know me and my mum, must be smiling now. I take pride
in having the largest collection of brightly coloured, odd-looking socks on
this side of the continent. So even I had a difficult time deciding what my Mum
would approve of from my collection. Still, we settled on a long pair of warm
green socks for her and returned to the hospital. We found her just as we left
her, soaking in God’s word. I
showed her the socks expecting her usual reaction of near-embarassment, but
instead I got a huge smile, a thank-you and a “These are nice socks! Can I keep
them?” Joe and I looked at each other in amazement. Sue joined us after her
shift and the fun continued. We ate chips hoping not to get caught and laughed
about everything under the sun.
At about 3pm a nurse
came in to take her stats and prepare her for theatre. At that point she began
to ask us to remain united, to stay strong, to keep praying… and she handed me
a bag and asked me to take good care of it and only to open it incase of an
emergency. We all dismissed her with our usual banter “Eh Mum, you’ll outlive
all of us, you will be fine. You will still be here for Noa’s wedding”. Still
she continued. She spoke of how happy she was that she had spoken to Ronn that
morning. She spoke about how she wanted our graduation pictures hang on the
dining room including precise instructions on how to arrange them. She spoke,
we listened, but we didn’t hear.
Eventually the time
came for her to go to theatre. Sue said a prayer and followed her to as far as
they would let her. After that we had the longest wait of our lives. A few of
our friends and our Aunty Sellah came to keep us company and we dulled our
anxiety with endless stories. The surgery was to take 2-3 hours. After 4 hours,
we began to worry that something could have gone wrong and we sent Sue to find
out. She came back with the best news ever. The surgery had been a complete
success and Mum had actually been in recovery for 2 of the four hours we’d been
waiting. She was soon wheeled back to her bed and we went in to see her. She
called each of us by name, all seven of us, and greeted us. Even in her pain,
she was hospitable. She told us that the surgery was a success and we rejoiced
with her. Because she was heavily sedated, we thought it best to allow her to
rest. Joe said a prayer and we left her in the best hands we could – in God’s
hands.
You can understand our
absolute shock and devastation when the hospital called us at 1.30am in the
night to let us know that Mum had passed on an hour after we left her. I have
walked through the events of that day in every still moment since she passed
on. I have cursed the day we walked into that hospital, I have cried bitterly
at the thought that in my mum’s moment of weakness, when she needed me the
most, I chose to go home and rest. My mum, who had been there for us all our
lives, left this world on her own. Like Jesus at the crucifixion I literally
have descended to hell.
PAUSE.
But I have refused to
remain there. Mum left this world on Her terms. Only someone who walks that
closely with God, gets to leave this world on their terms. I know for a fact,
that when we walked out of that hospital, God showed Himself to her, and He
asked her if she was ready to leave this world. I know for a fact, that Mum
thought about all of us, her mum, her siblings, her children, her
grandchildren, she knew we’d be fine and she said Yes Lord, let your will be
done. And He in turn peacefully carried her into eternity.
Kazi
ya Mungu haina makosa. The Bible that my mum loved so much says in Isaiah 57:
1-2 The righteous perish, and no one takes it to heart, the devout are taken
away, and no one understands
that
the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil. 2 Those who walk uprightly
enter
into peace; they find rest as they lie in death. If
you look at Mum right now, you can tell she is at peace, at home, she has found
rest.
We may not have been
prepared, we never thought it would happen, definitely not this soon, but Mum
was more than prepared. And just so you understand just how closely she walked
with God on the eve of her passing she wrote us a note and left it on the
desktop of her computer where she knew we’d find it.
She also made sure to
leave us accountable to the people she felt wouldn’t mind having us in their
lives. The people who have held us when the grief threatened to overwhelm us,
who have been present with us throughout every stage of mourning our beloved,
even when they themselves had every right to mourn. Like Jesus on the cross
gave his Mother a son and his beloved disciple a mother, mum gave us over to the
people she loved and trusted. Aunty Pam, now, like your mother, you have nine
children. Uncle Josiah and Aunty Sellah now you have ten. Mum knew you were
upto the task, and we trust her judgement completely. But you can be sure you have it easy. She already did all
the work. She has handed over a finished product. We are good children. We were
raised by the best!
Her
final words to us (and that I now leave you with) were (and I quote): Despite
everything, God is the father to the fatherless so to Him I leave you. Be
strong in faith, live together in harmony. Do what you think will bring glory
to God. Give towards God’s work and please shame the devil. Consult widely
among yourselves and when it gets tough, go on your knees and pray.
She
rests. The strongest, most loving, blessing we have received from God
peacefully rests. And we give all thanks, all praise, and all glory to God for
his perfect plan. Kazi ya Mungu haina makosa.
Amen.
But I'm a good Christian. I would be misrepresenting Him, if I said how I really felt. It would mean that I truly don't walk the walk. Reminds me of one of the first things a friend said in her bid to comfort me... "Why don't you question God when He does good things for you, and yet you get angry when He allows the bad?" If I'm going to remain a good Christian. If I want 121 likes each time I post something Godly that my friends identify with. If I don't lock myself in my room and refuse to get up and out and attend my weekly life group meeting as usual. If I don't post and share verses on whatsapp. If I so much as look like my hurt could be overwhelming me. If I use up my precious time with friends sharing about the pain of losing my mum.
