The Goog Nooz Is...

I am not the same person you remember.  I laugh the same way, I'm still afraid of sneezes, I still giggle unnecessarily.  But my light has been dimmed. I am not the same person you remember.  I have not spoken to you in a while.  You probably have not seen me in a while.  Maybe I have said "no" to one too many of your invitations. Forgive me. I have since lost a large piece of my hope pie.  I have since broken my literal heart. I have since lost a piece of my confidence. I am not the same person you remember.  "Get well" and "We love you" messages have become my staple.  As life goes on and I decelerate, I find less joy in waking up.  As people display their affection with human touch, I find that my reciprocal affection has been replaced by fear of contamination.  So strong is the fear, that even on my brightest day, I often prefer the company of my furry friend to loved ones.  Yes, I still love you, but... I am not the same person you rem

I suspected that this would be my last opportunity to hold her close to me. The scene was less than ideal. She needed to relieve herself. Robbed of her youthful agility by a stroke ten years prior, and further incapacitated by deep grief from losing all her younger siblings, she was unable to help herself up, let alone walk to a latrine. I had learnt to lift her to her feet in a way that does not hurt her tender areas. I always dreaded the idea of other people performing this task on her. I always felt that others lacked the deep empathy I felt for her. She was my mother after all. She gave birth to my mother but was my mother herself. She was always "ma" and never "gogo." On this day, she seemed helpless. Succumbing to death's inescapable call was almost certain. A grey pall had fallen over her usually butter-yellow skin, reflecting the curtains of the deep hollows she would soon descend to, on the back of that age-old enemy, death.