Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you butchered lyrics to a song countless times before actually getting the right version? Those close to me know I get to do this from time to time.
One such song that I've butchered belongs to the Giddens Sisters and is titled I'm going home to die no more. In my defence, I should say, I was very young when I first heard this song. I was young and I had no idea what "death" was. So how did your girl sing it? I'm going home to Dinomore. Yeeep. To me Dinomore was a person.
Today, many moons later I find myself in a community hall singing along to this song. Correct lyrics this time around. That and being conscious of the context of the lyrics.
What sucks about songs at a funeral is their heart piercing and trauma triggering effect. The words and the tunes do not just move your body but they reach your soul.
My great grandparents planted eight oak trees as a symbol of their union. Two sons and six daughters. I refer to them as oak trees because of their values and everything they stand for. My family and I are standing face to face with death today because one of the oak trees has fallen...
My heritage stems from one of the sister oak trees - my maternal grandmother. She and her siblings kept their roots merged and raised their offspring that way.
I've had the most interesting conversations with this oak tree that has fallen. She was such an interesting grandmother. Yes, i say grandmother.
My grandmother has been obsessed about my weight, concerned about my health woes and curious about my love life too. Above it all, she's been excited about my success and showed love at all times. The love that is gentle and validating. Not only to me but to all my other cousins. Oh, what a gentle heart!
You were full of drama and sense of humour too. I won't forget the day you boasted to one of your friends about me. "Can you see who she is," you asked. Your friend looked at me searching her mind. "...she's Ntemi's daughter. She's an entire journalist". Your friend, in shock, asked how I manage to interview the likes of politicians I won't mention. At this point I was torn between cracking up so hard and wishing that the earth could swallow me. Deep down I was happy that you were proud of who and what I had become.
Farewell Gogo. Farewell even to the other trees that have fallen before you. Go home. Go home to die no more...
