Thursday 29 September 2016

YOUR LAST GOOD DAY


There are several stages to grief we are told
Roused out of sleep with the news ‘Alhe is dead fa’
Oh no, that cannot be true, I thought
You had just dropped me a line a few days ago
You were going to inspire me to keep fit, nope, that couldn’t be

I hurriedly made my way to your house
Whether it was to confirm or dispel it I wouldn’t know
‘Baby, Alhe ta rige ki (she has beat you to death)
That was the first thing your mother said to me
It wasn't strange for her to say that for we competed fiercely as kids
Whether at the game of mortal combat or hula hoop

I sat outside, beside the swing set
It looks eerily like the one we both played on as kids
On it today sat swinging a little 4 year old girl dressed in pale pink
It could easily have been you
With an urge so strong I wanted to ask her to get down
Could she not see that I was mourning?
Instead I sent a weak smile in her direction
As her chirpy voice rang out in squeals of excitement
Those were always your exact reactions
You loved to swing so high till your head went past the poll
While you would scream with glee
You were always such a burst of sunshine

And I thought, Lord, why not wake her up
So we can share this reminisce?
But silence met my request
Then the flood of tears I had been holding back began a downward torrent
Oh, this pain. Why must you demand to be felt?
It was an ordinary day
You have plied that road countless times
But that was your last day, never to return home
Indeed, there's no way of knowing
That your last good day is indeed
Your Last Good Day
At the time, it is just another good day

But I have one reassurance
Heaven is all the more joyous with you there
Your beautiful soul was so rare…
And because of it, my childhood was memorable