DANCE WITH MY FATHER AGAIN BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON. I sat here feeling vanquished amidst many guests and relatives. Some of whom I had not seen in eons. We had all come to “see” my dad who had requested these meeting. We secretly felt deep inside; this was it .It brought memories of a wedding when the priest calls `anyone against the joining together of this lovers, please speak or be still forever‘. The galaxy was beckoning amid the carpet in velvet, maybe there was no turning back. The ticket was booked. This was a loud whisper that St. Peter had blown the trumpet. Sometime earlier my dad had requested for a meeting with me. When I finally arrived he asked me whether I had anything to say. Of course I had much to say but most of it I had said it already in the many great conversations we had together under moonlight horizons as we roasted nyama choma or just sat there watching the sunset .All I wanted to say had already been said. I told him I had nothing to say, because my eyes said it all. Momentarily I felt as though a twisted sword had gorged my nerves leaving a gash of uncertain pain. We sat there outside the hospital as I massaged his legs which were swollen due to oedema, we shared some of the most precious moments a son can ever share with a father. Though we had very great times in the past, this was probably the icing in the cake. I will forever cherish that day. However, deep inside I was feeling as if pepper was been sprinkled in my eyes because many memories were rushing through my head at the same time as I fathomed about the future. This was it, I grieved. At home, my dad was assisted from his bedroom into the sitting room. I was sad to see my strong dad so weak that a twig could knock him down .His distant eyes pierced the guests as if he was trying to read the minds of all of them .Here were us, his brothers, sisters, long time friends and relatives Sadly he could recall none .The green jumper he wore hanged so loosely on his shoulders betraying the swagger of the previously outgoing fellow who loved dinning, listening to music and cracking jokes with his friends. Deep inside he was peaceful but from the outside I could not fathom what could drain life from a human being so mercilessly. Oh cancer what‘s thy cruelty? It had been six months since my dad was diagnosed with cancer of the colon. The best medical care had failed stop it‘s spread. It had silently dried the system that irrigates bubbles of daylight, draining every inch of his life‘s fluid like the sun dries a pan of salt water leaving dry white particles which the wind can blow without resistance high into the skies . I looked in the eyes of my brother when he came to my house, he did not need utter a word. I saw it. Like a cat licking a bowl of milk dry; these cancer had given us a devastating knockout. A handicap it was. My thoughts were on my mother and my siblings. How were they? Deep down I was devastated. I pretended like a `man`. Eccelesiastes would write, the final respect. Up till now I had not shed a tear in public but inwardly I mourned my dad as kid grieves for a new lost toy. One of my his old time friend rose up and requested to sing one of his favorite songs, a country music classic-I WAS FINISHED.As his fingers wafted the piano keys and his voice rose through the somberness, it spelled the final waltz on the distant horizon. I felt a deep sadness creep inside. It is the saddest feeling I have ever felt in my life .I cried so much. I recalled all those precious moments I had shared with my dad .Many times we talked for hours, visiting Dagoretti corner for nyama choma, many times he took us to Bomas of Kenya, the Nairobi show ground, National museums and many exciting places .I could not take it no more and I wished the ground would open up and swallow me forever and take away my pain. The depth of loneliness that crept into my soul that day and catapulted me into an abyss of tears remains indescribable. It was the most colorful send off befitting a man of the people like my dad. The tree that my mother planted next to his grave gives me wonderful memories of him every time I visit home. I believe if my dad never went to paradise then maybe paradise is a mere fallacy .Today, the grace of God has taken away the scar of losing him. Instead beautiful memories sail my cerebral like an ode. When I look at my sons, I see my dad. Those times I spent with my dad, if I would write about them-I would write an odyssey…..Nine years down the line. I just sit here reminiscing and listen to -Dance with my father again by Luther Vandross and By the rivers of Babylon by Jimmy cliff. Sing along.
Posted on: Tue, 22 Oct 2013 15:24:05 +0000
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