After a rainy night I hear a soft knock on my door;
so soft you would mistaken it for a creaking door
I wish I had never opened that door
because what stood behind it was the beginning of my torture.
Pain was evident on fathers’ face:
Everything was so silent with a cool summer morning breeze,
like nature itself was mourning her life,
a woman of stature, A mother to the motherless,
A pillar of strength to her entire family.
But suddenly I heard a piecing cry filling the space;
I saw father having a battle with his own tears,
with no strength to comfort his daughter.
For the 1st time he was not my hero,
He was not the man I looked upon for wisdom
He was not the man who took my pain away with just his presence
he looked like a lost boy. After all he just lost hi mother.
For a couple of hours we stood watching her lifeless body,
Her eyes drained of life, never to light up this world again;
Her sweet melodic cooing voice never to be heard again,
The warmth in her hands was all that we wished we could feel again.
We all had one wish at that moment;
A chance to speak to her again,
One final chance to tell her how much we love her.
But time was doing what it is good at.
I took a walk around the village seeking
one who could fill the void I felt in me,
ironically it was just her memories
floating in that space ; her words of wisdom,
that song she used to hum while rocking
me to sleep. I found solace in her memory.
She left but she left us with peace , her love was enough to help us accept her departure;
The scars run deep but the tranquillity in mind tells us its time to let her Rest In Peace.
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