The Pain Of Losing A Parent

I remember it as if was yesterday. It does not matter that it happened way back in 1994,there are times the wound is so fresh I could swear it happened yesterday.

The Pain Of Losing A Parent

My mother had been on high blood pressure for a very long time , I was only able to piece together the bits and pieces of the puzzle slowly over a long period of time.This was the result of an accident which left my eldest sister burnt and she was hospitalized .For a time it was touch and go ,I gathered later ,the accident having happened well before I was even conceived so no one in the family really talked about it .I supposed this was because of the trauma that she  had gone through.During that ordeal ,my mother was to be diagnosed with high blood pressure and she started taking medication.

When I was born ,I understand she had already been on the meds for sometime.I was her last born son and I must say she loved me dearly and I believe now she spoiled me a little bit although I am not your typical mama’s boy. being the youngest ,I remember growing up and going to school and the only constant in my life was my mother.My siblings are all much older than me ,so they had completed school at the local primary school and had gone on to secondary schools far from home and my father could only come to visit during public holidays from his work in Harare.

In time,I was also able to outgrow the primary school and trekked to Harare for further education.I would just bear the idea of staying away from my mother  for the three months which constituted the school term,the day immediately after schools closed without fail, I would be on the first available bus for the rural home where my mother would be .

Whilst in college,I realized that my mother was no longer as strong as she used to be and I discovered that she was taking these medicines .It wasn’t a secret but I guess I had previously been too young to comprehend all that was happening around me.I would try and do my best to cover as much work as I could during the three or four weeks of the school vacation but I guess is was never enough now was it ?

I remember in 1993 ,when she was taken ill and my father , who was a pensioner then brought her to the family home ion then town of Chitungwiza(a dormitory town 20 kilometers from Harare)so that we could seek medical attention from a private doctor who operated a surgery quite close to our house.After many tests were conducted and much going to and fro ,it was later discovered that she had cancer of the eosophagus.She could not hold down any food let alone liquids like water.She was refered to one of  the main referral hospital at Harare Hospital.After undergoing several chemotherapy treatments she was discharged and we were told to bring her to hospital for check-up and to have her medication replenished.

Watching her struggling and waste away a on a daily basis from the lack of nourishment was heartbreaking, nothing seed to make sense then.Life was a slog .Whenever I had to leave home and go into town , my thoughts would be troubled ,I always feared that I could come back to find her gone.We were blessed as a family that her sisters would take turns to come and help look after her but the dreadful thoughts that one had especially at night was one which hardly made it possible for one to sleep.This was reduced to cat naps with one ear turned to the next room to try and find out if all was still alright.After a few months of this existence ,her sister finally arranged to take her home and we hired a station wagon were she could lie at the back with the back seat folded as at the time she could no longer walk nor sit.Little did I know that this would be the last time I would ever see her alive because two weeks after her departure I got a call that she had passed away and we had to start arrangements to lay her remains  to rest at the family grave yard in the rural area of Makoni South in Manicaland province.

Although I was a full-grown man with a wife and family at the time ,the loss was mind blowing .It took time for me to take it into my stride.One of the reason why I seemed to struggle with the loss was the fact that I was unable to grieve ,I shut all the emotions inside where no one could see them and tried as hard as I could to function like a normal being .I grew up at a time when most males were taught that one never showed their emotions in public,you would have to bottle these up lest you be known as someone less of a man and would be ridiculed. The truth is that I was cut up. Whilst my mind rationalized that maybe this was better for her because no human being is supposed to suffer as she had .To make the matter worse she would always put on a brave face and would ask me whether I was eating and sleeping well and I would lie to her that all was well do not think for a moment that I was able to fool her though,she was my mother after all.

Twenty-four years later the loss of my father to rob me of the remaining parent made me relive these emotions once more and to tell the truth it is as bitter as the first time I experienced it.