Mysterious Farewell -| Creative Nonfiction Prompt #46

Being brought up in the village offered me the opportunity to meet lots of people and gather valuable life lessons. My childhood, however, lacked the rosy hue it once held when grandma was around. Her death forced me to face the harsh realities of life at the age of 14.

Being the only grandchild living with grandpa, I shouldered all the household duties, assuming the roles of a mother. I often ask myself how "How would have coped if I had not watched grandma doing all those chores then. While I had everything I needed, shelter,an abundance of food,and freedom.There was a noticeable absence.

Having everything material, I felt a mysterious emptiness whenever I remembered about grandpa's lack of affection. My presence seemed only to serve a purpose to him, devoid of any inkling of love. This feeling made me question lots of things and wished neighbors understood life to me wasn't very rosy as they felt it was.

"Why did my parents not take me along to live with them and enjoy what it feels like growing up with siblings at that tender age or leave one of my siblings to fill that gap after grandma's burial?" The answers I sought remained blank.

Everything changed when I crossed paths with Nne. Her family made me grasp the true meaning of love. Her family became everything to me,my source of joy, I found acceptance and felt a sense of belonging in their home. They welcomed and treated me as if I were their own, taking away the emptiness that had long plagued me. My duties for grandpa continued which I didn't find as an issue as I had everything in surplus.

In Nne's family, I found what had been lacking in my life, love. Despite facing jealousy and hidden hatred from my young folks and others, my life regained its vibrancy. After some years of pleasant memories, Nne departed the village, leaving me behind with no means of communication. Then, having a mobile device was a luxury.

With only her mother remaining, I continued visiting and assisting her, experiencing her kindness firsthand. Undoubtedly, the good qualities I possess today are ones I gained from her and my grandma. After I completed my primary school education, I left the village. There was nothing to keep me in touch with her mum, after I got a phone, I searched social media handles for Nne but to no avail.

Years later, following my parents' return from Ogun state to settle permanently in our hometown. The positive testimonies from the neighborhood about how Nne and her mum cared for me united her and my mum. Through my mum's phone, I had the chance to ask of Nne's mother. The positive response I get from my mum was a relief.

Source

Three years ago, my mother disclosed shocking news that Nne's mother had fallen victim to a mysterious illness. I was surprised and sought to understand the situation. She told me everything and I felt nothing but sadness. Nne had rushed home to be with her sick mother.

Three visited hospitals with no evidence to what caused such illness. All attempts to know the kind of illness it was remained futile. Day by day, it drained her strength, causing her to excrete blood in her stool and vomit blood. A moment anyone would call on death but it remained absent, prolonging her suffering.

The weight of not being there for my dear friend and her mother during their difficult moment burdened me. I managed to obtain Nne's contact and engaged in conversation. Their voices were a mixture of pain and resignation, I hungered for the joyful voices in the past but life happens.

Several months passed, and news arrived that she had succumbed. A surge of emotional pain engulfed me. I cried in pain because she didn't deserve the agony inflicted on her by that mysterious illness. The laughter we shared, her generosity toward me and the chronicle of the pains she went through before death etched into my consciousness timelessly.

Unable to attend her funeral made me wrestled with feelings of guilt, hoping that Nne would understand and not hold it against me. Before the burial, I tried the number I had to explain things to her but the number was no longer reachable. I pleaded with my mum to visit her house and explain things to her and get her new contact for me. Before the burial my mum had been visiting her family to console them.

After the burial, she Departed the village and got my number from my mum. The affection of childhood, the mystery of her mum's illness, and the absence of contact between us even after she got my contact revisited me daily. I maintain the hope that one day, a reconnection will mend what has been lost.