Exhale. I have been wanting to write since my return now and couldn’t and didn’t while having used the excuse of having the laptop being repaired by my sister. She did and now I felt that excusing myself was a bit too much. Besides, I couldn’t sleep anymore. It’s jet lag I suppose.
My grandmother is dead. Both of my grandparents on father’s side now are deceased. I remember the craziness of February 4th when I woke up still in daze from my other slumber of having the feeling that I’ve drowned already from “failure” to imminently being told that she is not well. I meddled in booking the trip to see her and not wanting my father to be alone….it’s such a painful journey, then I finally faced the consequence of having to face an even slimmer bank account after an unexpected expense of purchasing the unplanned ticket for a flight coming up in a few hours….it was done.
The plane ride. I didn’t truthfully know what to feel. If I could feel even really. We got through it. Surreal. Then we arrived. Just like that, BAAM a different setting again. Warm weather, not bullshit of racist choking dogma, a country full of brown and black people again. Again….
It hit me that grandmother was already dead when riding in the car. Before that I was still naive in a way and unknowing of what was happening. Then I got it. It is utterly too late. She already passed away. Though we arrived on the most fastest flight possible, grandmother’s flesh was already empty and her soul and body warmth never to be witnessed by my father nor I again. Not here anymore at least. I remember vaguely not looking out of the car windows anymore during that ride, a feeling of not caring and knowing where I was going (I don’t know the city of Addis like that anyways) and just feeling that it was irrelevant anyways. Then we arrived. People, so many people who were crying and screaming. Then the wooden box. Grandma inside but I was unable to see her anymore as she was shut closed. The same room with the table holding her straight in the living room which I vowed and looked forward to visiting soon. How did I not recognize that 5 years almost passed since that promise was last made? What the fuck is the point question, crossed my mind again…at least began to pop up it’s seeds in my mind at that moment.
I felt paralyzed. I couldn’t go and touch the casket. It felt like a blur. I never touched grandma for the last time before she was whisked into the graveyard, a day later. I remember losing breath and nearly collapsing at the church site after the burial when the claustrophobia of so many people and and a hike to get to the church in the sun finally caught up with me. I had to kneel down, with stamina I gasped but did not faint. I was panicking. My aunt allowed me the space and I was able to get out of the crowd to sit down away from it. I remember sleeping later after that for some hours.
Grandmother is gone now.