In your life you inspired even in your death you still inspire me. You are the reason I started writing.
You are my sizla-I loved how you called us- and your mamushka. Your death really affects us. More than 4 years down the line but am still writing this piece in tears. It is still painful, a topic we never discuss.
I tried to heal by forgetting about you, that way I thought I would move on. But who can forget those small teeth you used to smile with. Your memory flashes back and I push them away for it’s painful to bear.
But what am I doing to me, is this how you heal coz it has not worked all these years. You know this is one part I question God but who am I to question Him. His ways are mysterious we don’t know His reason but you had to leave us early.
You know I have never thought of thanking God for you. You will always be a gem in our family. Growing up in the ghetto we were never taught how to express our emotion towards each other the best we were close to was be your brothers/ sisters keeper. This meant protection at whatever means, if you beat anyone of us we gang up against you, always know of our whereabouts, play together, come home together. This mushy mushy stuff we were not used to but the love was there.
This is why we could just by the sound of sizla we understood the love behind it and we could do anything. This was our soft spot.
So Sizla I celebrate you today and thank God for you. How you took care of your nephews, I tell my son he missed out on a love so pure. Your heart of gold, when you didn’t have any cash to help you went ahead and split our shopping and even mum’s when we asked, you reminded us what we had was enough and there was no way your friend will sleep hungry and there was enough for all. Your loyalty we understood and didn’t question. We knew that you would do this again and again.
I thank God for that smile, those small teeth that have refused to leave my head. I see you in your shorts, glammed up to go out. God you did love life, and you lived a day at a time.
Back up- you always reminded us not to worry you always had our back and this you did. You were ready to fight for us literally. Sizla, I miss you my small sister but what to do.
I refuse to fight back your memories. Instead I will cry and laugh and embrace it. I will try to touch peoples lives following in your footsteps. I will celebrate the little milestones along my way. I will express myself and my emotions.
I wish I could have showed you more of how I loved you, told you of how you meant a lot to me, but the ghetto in me not used to this thought you should know, it is unnatural to start saying I love you or hugging like small kids.
So I change my thoughts and actions, sometimes just sitting there is not enough, you need to be embraced and assured everything will be alright, a public display of love is not bad after all. There is nothing wrong with embracing your emotional side. So I teach my son and to my other children the basics of emotions, to say I love you, I miss you, thank you, am sorry, the little things that makes a difference and lightens a person. To be sad, to cry and talk about it.
These are the things that bring happiness, I teach my son to love and be loved and to express himself when in love. Love is everywhere.
My love for you has never died. I love you forever Sizla. Watch over us. I hope you could read this.
with love,
the WOMAN in me.
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