For the past two days, as I rise from bed, a soft utterance escapes my lips: “I wish we had more time.” More time to reconnect, engage in our familiar conversations, but above all, more time to simply talk.
You made your presence felt on May 31, 2020, when I needed a friend—always reliable. On my birthday, we celebrated with a dinner that included you gifting me with a fluffy sponge cake. Your culinary expertise—it’s unparalleled. Back in university, you played chef for us (Maame Akua and I), preparing meals for the men we thought were “the one” at that time (our naïveté). Your presence at my graduation was equally cherished. One word to describe you will perpetually be PRESENT.
As heart-wrenching as your passing is, I take solace in knowing that you had what some of us don’t have at our age—a loving, faithful husband, and an adorable daughter, Sally-Ann. Not to mention, supportive parents, a brave brother, and thoughtful friends.
Upon waking each day, I find myself whispering, “I wish we had more time.” I can’t fathom the pain your husband must be enduring—turning in bed, hoping to feel the touch of his beloved wife, only to encounter emptiness, how agonizing. Explaining your absence to little Sally-Ann, who cries for her “mama,” to be told that “you had to embark on an infinite vacation to meet your Maker”. How does one explain that to an infant? Your husband and Sally-Ann will remain in my prayers perpetually.
Sally-Ann will grow up aware of the remarkable woman her mother was—
- A selfless, thoughtful, and kind soul who birthed her.
- A faithful servant of the Lord who lived out the teachings of the Bible in the best way she knew how.
- A virtuous woman who loved her husband and received love in return.
- A joyful daughter with parents who cherished her unconditionally.
- A caring sister and a friend who was always present, sacrificing for many.
- An incredible cook with the culinary skills that can be attributed to having gifted hands.
The saying “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away” only partially captures the essence of your departure. Yet, we must find solace in those words, trusting that the Lord knows best.
I am certain that you are dancing in the sky, your infectious laughter tickling the angels. I am relieved that Earth has released you from your suffering, and heaven welcomes you with open arms, free from pain.
One thing is certain—Heaven is not too far away.
Undoubtedly, we will pay you a visit someday.
Until we meet again, my friend, know that you are loved, Mimi .
Mimi was a contributor on this platform. Here are two of her works. I hope by reading it, you connect to Mimi. Her first blog post was titled "The never ending" and her second and last post was titled "Goodbye". The irony. This makes typing these even harder. I know the content is in a different light but that still doesn't eliminate the current reality and the coincidence of the title.
The never-ending …
Goodbye 👋 – The Beginning or Closing of a Chapter
