Letter six of eighteen

Dear 2018,

Yes, I know. Some wounds will never heal.

There are a few things under the sun that we can’t escape from. During the wrestle that is life, death, for me, gives one of the biggest chokeslams. 

Growing up, watching WWE was one of my favourite pass times. I found it fascinating. I admired so many of the players. The likes of Eddy Guerrero, Rey Mysterio, John Cena, The Rock and of course, The Undertaker. I liked each of them for unique reasons such as their charisma and signature moves. The Undertaker’s chokeslam came to mind while I was thinking about today’s letter. The chokeslam, for those who are unfamiliar with the term, is a wrestling move where the wrestler grabs his/her opponent on the neck, lifts them up in the air and then drops them on their back. Hence the name. You are choked and then slammed. The death of a loved one feels exactly like this. To say the least.

The initial slam comes when you hear the news. Your denial phase occurs while you're up in the air. Your back hits the ground really hard when they lower that coffin and your brain registers that you’re hurting. It doesn’t end there. No. Not by a long shot. The sting of death chokeslams you when you least expect it. Death chokeslams you when you hear songs and conversations that remind you of them when you find yourself eating their favourite food…when you realise that they will no longer be there. Ever. The thing about all this, mostly, is that you can hardly bring it up. Not to people mourning like you, not to those who have recently lost a loved one and you don’t dare tell people who have no idea what you are going through. So, you get up after each slam. You sing the “life goes on” song and you soldier on…until the next slam.

A few years ago I lost my chaplain. His death altered so many things in my system. I lost two of my aunts during the second year of the Master's degree. One paternal. Another maternal.  This crippled me in so many ways. Ways that affected my progress but, as I said earlier on, I kept this to myself. This year, I faced the occasional chokeslams on the anniversaries of their deaths. One would think that it gets better. It doesn’t. I’ve just accepted that I’m not the same person I used to be. 

I reached exciting milestones in my career this year. One of them was graduation. It wasn't my first. I had graduated before and I hardly made a fuss about it. I don’t even have the stage photos of my first two graduations. So when this graduation was approaching, I was on that boat. One of my late aunts never understood this. I remember her questioning me having a 21st birthday party celebration over a graduation party. Being the apple of her eye, I cooked up an excuse that there would be others and that I only turned 21 once. She accepted this reluctantly and life went on.

Graduation this year was a bit different. Mainly because I decided to make a fuss. I decided to smile and make the most of each and every memory. I walked on that stage grateful for everyone who got me there. Those living and departed. I expressed my gratitude to those still alive. I openly accepted my chokeslam in memory of those whose prayers reached where they couldn’t. May the warmth of my love, like yours, still bring comfort to those around me when I too am no more.

When Vusi Nova’s rendition of As'phelelanga plays I jam to it with my memories of them, and other’s I’ve lost, on rewind. There are days when I laugh. There are others when I just get so teary. On all days, though, I'm grateful for the gift of their lives. 

2018 because of you, I give death and life a nod and accept that nothing with change…