When it rains, it pours

In 24 hours, I went from knowing I had 1.5 months left in my apartment, to 2 weeks left, to 6 days.

The last week has been a whirlwind of uncertainty and surprises, but ultimately I have come to realize although good things happen to good people, unfortunate things can also occur at the same exact moment. While researching ways to get myself abroad, I came across a summer fellowship program where graduate instructors teach a handful of indigenous African languages in a language institute. That was last Monday. On Tuesday, I made up my mind to take advantage of the opportunity, no matter the cost. I spent the majority of Tuesday afternoon contacting individual institutions inquiring about the availability of remaining fellowships. On Thursday, I learned the lone student who registered apart of the language class that had my interest dropped out, and as a result they weren’t certain the instructor would teach. Friday afternoon, I receive an email saying: ” We have just confirmed that we will have an additional fellowship for the summer and would like to offer you a fellowship if you can confirm that you will attend, so we can finalize arrangements with the instructor”. Praise the Lord! As I read the email at work, my throat closed up. Trying not to hyperventilate, I re-read the email to make sure my eyes were doing its job, and quickly responded accepting the fellowship position. In my mind, I calculated I had roughly 2 weeks before I had to leave and began plotting my moving strategy.

Friday evening, I called home to share the good news and sadly learned my grandfather had slipped into a coma earlier that morning. Saturday morning, he had passed on. Now instead of two weeks, I’d have 6 days to pack up and get myself home.

Although I am not afraid of death, and wholeheartedly believe his transition means no more suffering, death still sucks. Death comes at its own time, irregardless of your personal plans. I am not sad for death, I am only sad for the reality that I will no longer see him. No longer will I rush and get the daily newspaper for him to read. To hear him sing along to old Soca songs. And even with death, I am the most sad for my grandmother. Death at this time reminds me of my own humanity and morality. Death reminds me to just stop. And breathe.

♥ Chinye