If you have followed my journey thus far then you will know what you are about to read means a lot to me and you will rejoice with me. I voluntarily spill my stories out there and no one judges me at least to my knowledge. My heart tells me to also share my breakthroughs or developments on stories I have already shared. So here we go.
Remember ? Well, this happened.
When I travel back home I always make it a point to visit my granny. Mommy’s mum. And you know how most grannies are so honest and will tell you anything because they don’t give a hoot or they are just that cool and mostly can get a pass for anything because…age.
Well, I shamelessly harass my granny with countless questions about my mum. And she answers almost everything. She has told me a lot about my mum. Last time I was home I went beyond limit and questioned almost everyone who would be willing to talk about her. My memories, that and the talks I have had this week with people who were in my mums life is what inspired the “Love of a dying mum” post.
On mums anniversary I had planned to call dad in the morning but blame it on the shitty network at home our talk happened in the evening. It was those loooong calls we have when we get the chance and it was, I believe for both of us life changing.
As usual, it starts with small talk. So quarter the time we talk about the weather. Funny this weather we always talk about is never good. It always happens to be on the extreme of what is required. So I gather now rain is needed in Kenya and it seems stuck in Tanzania. So if you are Tanzanian and reading this please ask his Excellency Magufuli to send it to Kenya. Tafadhali. Dad needs it.
For the 5th time, “Dad how are you? You you not your wife, kids or our neighbor, but you Mungai.”
He laughs, then says “we are good.” (I roll my eyes once more)
“C’mon dad, okay do you know that today is 18 years since mum died? “
He doesn’t say yes or no, instead and in a shocked state from the sound of his voice he spurts out that it is so many years that he even stopped counting .
What follows is an exchange of all the unspoken matters regarding my mum that I felt needed to be addressed. I poured my heart to him and he poured his to me. It was surreal that this moment eventually came. He told me things that I needed to hear and additionally things I never thought I needed to hear.
My heart was so full and I’m even more at ease now to talk to dad about anything. I almost gave up on this ever happening but I tried one more time, pressed a little harder and here we are. This will never be a what if for me. I didn’t ever want to live with that. I believe we both gained so much from that talk. And wherever mum is she is definitely proud. Daddy did come through.
However much I feel things should have been handled differently I understand a lot more now why some things were the way they were and I will try to live the rest of my life with that peace.