Linda’s #SoCS challenge this week:
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “difference.” Whatever the word “difference” conjures first in your mind, write about it. Enjoy!
What a difference a day makes.
That is a line from a song, yes, but it also holds such a lot of truth in it, too.
Take yesterday, and today, for example. (forgive me, I write this on Friday evening, so it is ready for Saturday.)
Yesterday, I woke so early, at 3.30am, so I could be present for the funeral of my uncle, who passed away in Australia. So, time difference pending, I was up at the crack of dawn, armed with my phone and laptop. I connected with the family via WhatsApp video call, so I, along with my parents, and my other uncle and aunt in Kenya, and other key family members, could be there when Mamaji (my uncle) was brought home, as is the custom with our final goodbyes. We were present, but not, if you know what I mean.
Still, it meant a lot that we were able to attend this occasion in a way that a few years back, would have been nigh on impossible to .
After, that I switched from phone to laptop, so we could follow the live streaming at the chapel of rest, where the cremation was going to take place. Again, another miracle of technology allowing us to hear the words spoken about Mamaji, and to see the rest of the family who were there.
By 6.30 am, I was shattered. Emotionally, mentally and physically, I was drained.
So, after a cup of tea, and some breakfast, I climbed the stairs and joined the rest of the family in a couple of restless hours of sleep.
The rest of the day drifted by, as I tried to get my energy up, not with much success.
Fast forward to today, a day later.
I slept solidly, last night, for a good eight hours. I had no alarm to wake me, as it is Easter break. And I woke feeling positive, energetic and happy.
That one day, filled with sadness, but also, relief that Mamaji was on his final journey, so different to today, where I feel at peace.
I sat and looked at photos of him, today.
Mamaji wanted none of that extended mourning that is typical of Indian families. He said, specifically, “Cry for me, if you have to, for a couple of days. After that, smile. Remember all the good times. Don’t be sad I’m gone, be happy we were together”. He even requested that everyone should wear bright colours at the funeral, not the whites, creams and muted tones that are the norm. “Celebrate my life. I had a good one.”
Yesterday, those photos came with tears. Today, I could look at them with a smile on my face.
See, what a difference a day makes.
But I Smile Anyway... 