Today, it’s been 22 years since he departed,
But God, weren’t you her confidant, her friend?
Why pluck her beloved on Valentine’s Day,
When you had countless other days to choose from?
Could you not have spared her this heartache,
Just for one more day, one day to hold dear?
We’ve been taught not to question your ways,
To accept your will as the ultimate decree.
But forgive me for feeling this is unjust,
Is this why your friendships are so few?
My anger rises, for she was still so young,
Just embarking on life’s journey with her family.
With young children, the eldest barely five,
She hadn’t yet found her footing, her stride.
Then, like a sudden storm, death swept in,
And snatched away her partner, her soulmate.
How can this be fair, to leave her
With shadows on a day meant for love’s celebration?
As others stroll hand in hand,
Amidst fragrant blooms and tender caresses,
She cloaks herself in sorrow’s shroud,
Haunted by the ghost of that day.
Even after 22 years, the pain remains fresh,
As if it happened just a breath ago.
She clings to his last words, his final touch,
His essence lingering like a bittersweet melody.
She recalls how his eyelids closed,
Never to flutter open again,
And how he lay, his head gently tilted,
Upon the Agha Khan, Kisumu bed,
As he breathed his final breath.
Death, they say, is a passage we all must tread,
But why, oh why, choose Valentine’s Day?
@okelododdychitchats
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