The Essence Of Life.

I miss those days when life was more smooth than bumpy. It was the prime of my marriage to Mbu. The feeling of not needing anything and just being content was life. It was brief, but it nurtured parts of my soul that had been neglected due to focusing on surviving in the previous years. Just being was once a dream. The thought of an unbothered mind and harmonious spirit was a goal that was so far to reach.

I spent years praying for it and then one day I got to live it. It was during this season of bliss that I had the opportunity to define life and its worth. Life’s worth became even greater when I faced the possibility of widowhood.

As my husband and I spent our last moments together – we wanted for nothing but each other’s love. He was on his deathbed, when he would take a deep breath and say “…kunzima mfazi wam.” I would, with a great effort to keep the tears from rolling down my eyes and smile. He would then continue to say “…ndiyakuthanda…”

His ‘I love you’ still carried the same value as the day we met. He had always told me he loved me. It wasn’t because he was suddenly facing death.

I admired his kindness. He knew, understood and accepted what was to happen, but here he was telling me that he loved me. I just wonder what my thoughts would have been if the roles were switched.

My husband was depressed before his passing. I was surprised to hear this from his oncologist. She told me this in order for me to understand what I was dealing with. I found it weird that my husband was depressed. He was the most optimistic person I knew and mostly because he kept telling me that he was going to beat the cancer and survive. Those were his words to me.

The oncologist probably told me this because maybe, she saw how much my husband tried to protect me from the trauma I was facing, but with the end approaching closer and closer; I had to be prepared.

She mentioned how difficult it was for her and her team to treat my husband because of medical knowledge – they couldn’t give him false hope or sugar coat things.

I truly applaud that medical team. I watched them frantically trying to help my husband, calling in other specialists to come try their techniques or suggest other equipment. It was all in vain. They too were scarred by seeing their colleague slip right out of their very experienced hands.

That for me was the limit of human kind. They had so much knowledge, my husband included, but it was null and void. This was the next level of the game. Where only the chosen ones go up into it. The late. Those of us who are below this level can’t dictate or manipulate further than where we are. 

That’s the essence of life; that we are not God. We can love, care and hold people and things tight to our hearts, but they aren’t ours. Not our own breath is ours. It all belongs to God.