grief.

Dear reader,

Happy New Month!

How are you?

Aside from this persistent and ravaging craving for boiled corn, and the grief that I carry within me—in my chest and stomach—I am well.

I lost my aunt a bit over two weeks ago. I miss her. Sometimes, I see her face vividly when I close my eyes, and if I try hard enough, I can see her walking and smiling at me.

I haven’t felt like this in a long time. My grief is raw. It’s so real. Since that Friday when I got the news, my head has been floating. I cried. And cried. Then I stared into space for most of the time. I also thought of my mother, and another part of me broke. She was her closest companion, and now she’s gone.

I imagined my aunt lying down with her hands crossed on her tummy. During the funeral, I refused to look at her body. I was expecting that she’d attend the program. It was so weird seeing all the family members gathered together and she, the center of the ceremony, not there.

Grief has held my heart. It has said to me, “Abigail, I have come to show you that to love means to suffer.” I am indeed suffering—suffering from the pain of losing a loved one.

It rained after her three-day prayer. They said it was a sign that she was resting well. That’s all I needed to hear, because I am comforted. Even though it hurts, I know she’s in a better place.

Big Mama, I’ll miss you until I finally see you!🤍