Find me in the Clouds

I can smell the scent of roses as I shut down the windows in my room, reminding me of things I wish to forget. No matter how fast I walk down memory lane, there is always so much more to process. So much to remember and somewhere in that maze of memories, the pain grips my heart for I know we are out of time. Everyone I love will enter the future without me. Sorrow chooses that time to envelop me with her cold arms and I curl myself into a ball once my husband is asleep and cry, at least until I am too emotionally worn to stay awake. Even in my dreams, I find myself asking for more time. More time to live, laugh, and create new memories but it's an unanswered prayer.

Misery wakes me up before dawn and I walk down the field of wheat until I reach the rock near the river. I sit on it and stare at the fading stars just before the sunlight rips open the innocent night sky. In the wake of the piercing sun, clouds appear. Yesterday, they were menacing but today, they look so soft, I wish I could touch them. I watch them transition in color as more light streams in…a red hue then a light grey and I find myself thinking about the days we used to play in these fields. A mother and daughter experiencing life with nature in the wee hours of the morning. She would chase me down to the river and we would splash the water until the workers started coming in for work. Then we would sneak into the cottage before father got out to milk the cows so that he wouldn’t see us wet. Now I am scared to even look at him because sorrow resides in his eyes. Grief is a monster that seems to eat him away from the inside and the thought of what my absence will do to him scares me. Losing the woman one loves is something that should never happen to any man but she wasn’t just a woman, she was my mother, our lifeline and now, my husband is about to lose me too.

The house holds memories of her final days but here, by the river, watching the clouds that she loved, I remember even the good days. The days when we hiked up our skirts and fished. Then we would build a fire under the Muhacha tree so we could warm ourselves and watch the fish slowly ripen under the heat. Into the silence of the morning, she would tell tales from her maiden days when she was free to do whatever she wanted. At least that’s what she wanted to believe. Jasper, our dog would sit quietly watching us and barking now and then whenever he thought he was seeing someone. We would thank him for always keeping us safe as if he understood what we were saying. Now that I am alone, Jasper doesn’t sit far away. Instead, he sits next to me so I can pet him.  Sometimes, I think he can sense my time on earth is running out. We watch the clouds together and whenever I drown in thought, he licks my face. I end up laughing and we run down to the river. Or rather, he races me to the riverside and I have to splash water onto him as fast as I can before he runs back to the safety of the rock.  

I whisper to the clouds to preserve these moments. Tomorrow will be different from today because tomorrow, I will muster the courage to tell my husband and pray that he…even the thought doesn’t form in my mind. How am I supposed to tell him that the forever we dreamt of will never be? That growing old together would always be a dream? He will grow old but I will remain young in his memories, a sweet period of his life that he would enjoy in solace in a future where I won’t exist. Some days, I do not come down to the river. I watch him as I would watch the clouds, with deep adoration that cannot be translated into words. His sighs and murmurs, the way he tosses and turns when he is restless and his subtle smiles when he is having a good day, I have it all imprinted on my mind. It’s of no use because where I am going, there are no memories but if death is like sleep, I hope I can dream of him and the daughter borne of our love, Lily, she has no idea how much her life will change.

Tomorrow, I will bring her down to the river just as my mother also came with me. When leukemia finally brings me down to the grave, I want this place to be a haven holding our fondest memories. It will become the rock that knows the stories that will be passed on from daughter to daughter. She doesn’t know the grief that’ll come with my death and I don’t want her to know as yet so I will watch her splash water at Jasper and laugh into the quiet morning. I will teach her how to build a fire and fish in the river. As we sit by that fire, I will tell her my tales and when we get home, I will create new memories inside that house. It will not haunt her as it haunted me. Time is precious and we need to spend all of it on the things and people we love, the people who love us truly, it took facing death for me to understand that but I hope she finds things to laugh about when I am gone. Maybe, she will find happiness in another person's soul that brightens up her own just as the sun brightens up the sky. At that time, memories will be like clouds. Heavy during a storm but something we can all fall in love with at sunrise. In the soft clouds that hang in the sky, she will find me and everything I asked God to give to her. Find me in the clouds little one, just as I found traces of my mother.