I was still in high school when it happened, free spirited, and careless. I loved boarding school; it was the place to be. I didn’t care about grades although I was a smart kid and had no thoughts about college. I was having fun and that’s what really mattered at the time. The essence of life had not yet occurred to me. I was the class clown and the life of the party. Change is the only constant as much we would like to disagree but it is bound to come and for sure it did for me.
He always had a smile that could light up a room and laughed constantly. He was friendly and enjoyed the company of people. He was a people’s person. He could sing and when he struck the hell out of the guitar you had to burst a move. He was a great singer too and loved life. I could still hear his voice speaking to me and saying, “It will be fine”. I believed in everything he said, I always did. Somehow he seemed to know a great deal of things. His eyes shone like a lamp and every time he came around our hearts rejoiced. When he began wasting away, it was alarming to the whole family. Suddenly he became weak and wouldn’t walk well on his own. Nevertheless he fought the illness and assured me he would be fine but at this point I was beginning to wonder on which side God’s scale of life was tipping. I hadn’t lost a close family and was not ready to. I prayed for him that he would recover from whatever illness had captured his body.
It was during the third semester of school, being silly as usual but in the back of my head always thought what I would do if the unexpected happened. As much as I loved boarding school, it was a joy to go back home in the middle of the semester just to eat the home cooked food. The unusual happened when my mother called the school and asked for me to go back home urgently. It didn’t occur to me what might have happened but I was excited to go eat my mother’s meals. I arrived home and went straight into the kitchen and started eating. My mother and I have been close for so long that I can read her body language like an open book. She had brought up my uncle, my father’s youngest brother. She loved him just like her own. He was adorable and everybody loved him. On this day my mother didn’t seem herself. Suddenly she asked me to sit down and she brought out a bible. I looked at her and before she spoke I knew the worst had happened. I held my breath and wished that I was wrong and waited for her to speak. She said, “let us pray”. After the word of prayer she read a verse in the bible and it gave it away right then. She read Job 1:21. I started tearing up. She couldn’t watch her son breaking down in tears because she knew how close we were, and she broke down too. We hugged and then she finally broke the news that my dearest uncle had kicked the bucket a few days ago and it hit me that it was when I was praying for him.
As if that was not enough, when my grandmother learned about her son’s death she fell to the ground and died right away. It was the greatest loss of the family in the shortest time ever. R.I.P grandma, R.I.P uncle… I will always love y’all.