I spent my day in silence. It was not even a planned silence. My boys went out of the house and suddenly, I did not turn on the TV or radio. I just enjoyed listening to the clock tick and the fridge making its own continuous noise on the side- the joys of open plan living. I have always hated clocks because of their constant ticking but today it did not seem to matter. I really needed the silence to help me organise myself. It had been a long year for me. I re-started higher education nearly a year ago. I made the decision to retrain as a nurse and it had been so hectic and demanding that I had absolutely no time to think or grieve…. Well, here I was on a day off work simply because my bag had been stolen the day before. It’s unbelievable how traumatising the experience was for me. I spent the day in a secure setting and left my bag on the side in a CCTV secure room. By the time I returned, the bag was not there. The speed with which it was whisked meant that I initially thought that it was a joke. Honestly. However,  a few minutes  into the search, I realised that it was not a joke. The bag was simply…gone! Panic! I had a lot in that baag. My keys… like all my keys. My lucky pen and my late son’s squidgy. I took it from his side when he died and had carried it on my person ever since. Even if I could replace everything I lost with the bag, how on earth will I replicate the sentimental value that toy held to me. He had been inseparable from the little squidgy. It has his squidgy. The one he had actually played with. In my mind, it had remnants and traces of his personality on it. the scrapes, marks and dents on the toy were somehow his stamps on the toy. The hardest part for me after realising that my bag had been stolen was telling everyone. I knew that I was about to open up a minefield of unsolicited opinions. Which I detest by the way…just in case you were wondering. Are you sure you left it there? Duh!?!? I did not lose my mind alongside the bag. I definitely left the bag there. But I kept those thoughts in my mind. After all I needed their help to find the bag. Why did you leave it there? Seriously, if we could all explain the reasons why we did the things we did we would be better people. Who leaves a bag in a place like that? Well me! You would have done the same too. Seriously, asking a question in my absence is just not on! What if I did not walk in on that conversation? Poor me…I felt at the mercy of everyone. I was on the receiving end. Oh and I forgot to mention how many times I had to recount the ordeal. It just felt like yanking off the plaster every time I retold my tale of woes. I could see in their eyes that they were saying I was dumb. Well maybe I was but is that why my bag should be lost….or better still stolen? Thank you for reading. Photo Credit: Pixabay You also like other articles in this series. Please click here

Nursing Diaries: The Stolen Bag

It’s two years now… How time flies. I just received a card in the post from Great Ormond street hospital and it was too special to be quiet about. You see, for those in my boat, they know how it feels. Everyone forgets. No that’s harsh. Everyone becomes silent… they don’t talk about him anymore. Well, it’s not surprising since he no longer exists. Well, I felt elated today by the card though. Sadly when I tried to call back to send my heartfelt thanks, there was no specific person to take the compliment. Them: My name is XYZ, you are through to the bereavement service Me: Oh thanks, I just received a card and I want to speak with the person in charge. Them: Erm, erm…. there is no one here in the office, will you leave a message so that I can get someone to call you back Then I went blank. Leave a message? what do I say? Please call me back so that I can say Thank you to you. Them: Hello, are you there? Me: Yes Them: So what is it regarding? She rephrased the question. This one seemed easier me: It is regarding my son Otito…my late son. Them: Oh, do you need support? Oh I never knew that they could give support! Me: No (Now I sounded lame. Why was I calling?) I just want to speak with the person in charge. Them: Ok, so what is it regarding Me: Thank you Them: You are welcome Me: No, it’s regarding Thank you. I want to say thank you. I received a card just now and I thought it was very thoughtful. Since they are not around…. if only I had an email for you guys, I would have sent a letter, it would have been more profound. Them: Oh, it was sent by our office Me: Who sent it Them: We did. I wanted to ask the question: “who is we”, I was still thinking… Them: I am glad you liked it. Is there anything else I can help you with Me: In shock because I was still gathering my thoughts. So I simply said…No Them: Alright then, bye, bye. Me: Bye She hung up…. It was in that moment that it dawned on me that no one sent me the card. It was probably a computer. My hubby was in the room and he asked me : “so what did they say?”. Now I wished I did not tell him I was making the call because I did not want to break his heart. Me: They said they sent it from that office. Hubby: What office Me: The one I just called. I was entering limbo again (I normally enter a certain numbness that leads to me staring when I am troubled. I call this my limbo phase). I was still in shock. When I received that card, It took me to cloud 9. How compassionate, how thoughtful and kind of them. I should not have tried to call to say thank you. After all, did I do that last year? Mba …No! I was not happy that no one seemed to send the card. First she said they were not around, next she said “we” sent the card. But anyway even if “we” sent me a card, it was better than nothing after all all those I knew had forgotten. So cheers to “WE” at Great Ormond Street Hospital, you rock. You guys always loved my boy. I appreciate you all. In future, I would not call to say thank you though. Leave me in the bubble of love, compassion and thoughtfulness that your cards put me in when I receive them. I do not want to be upset. Thank you all for listening to me as always. Photo Credit : Pixabay

Death at my Door (DAMD): 2 years already. When “WE” sent me a message.

I feel the scabs forming daily over my grief. I have started to thaw from where I was frozen with the pain of the loss. I can safely say that I now feel the fresh breeze of life on my skin. Well… I still yearn for memories long gone as any griever knows. But…. I smile because I was privileged to make them with “he is was mine but now flies high in the sky!” I can flex my emotional muscles more. I don’t fight the tears when they pour I know that experiencing them strengthens me and helps reduce the pain.   Now I see the scar forming beneath the scabs that have formed where my heart took the hit at his demise. It still hurts to behold the scar but… The oil of love that surrounds me will melt the scar until it hurts less to look at it. Like every warrior, the scars we bear of the life we live show how far we have come. What is most powerful about the scar is that it reassures us about we are capable of overcoming. If you did it before…you can do it again and you will! No matter your struggle or pain. Keep believing that you’ve have got this! Thank you for reading

Death at my door (DAMD) The Scars