2014 Oct. 30: “Do you remember me?”

It has been two months since you passed on.

There has never been a day that went by since that dreadful day that I have not thought of you.

Each day that passes with tears in my eyes I think of you and what you meant to me.

My thoughts are full of question marks.
Why did you have to die?
Why did you have cancer?
Why didn’t I try harder to get you to see a doctor sooner?
Did I fail you?
Was it time?
Where are you?
How are you feeling?
Do you remember me?
Most of all I wonder if you are OK where you are.

At first I did not want to believe it. Then I felt the most excruciating pain in my heart, a kind of pain I cannot explain to another, pain that only I can understand.

I thought talking about it will ease the pain, I thought crying would make me feel better, I thought getting drunk will help, but none of the above worked because deep in my heart I still feel it.

Even though my tears are getting less with each day that passes. I still cry and I miss you. I know these questions will remain unanswered, at least not in this lifetime, but I still have them.

There was a time that I was filled with overwhelming anger. Angry at myself for not trying harder, angry at you my love for giving in to death, angry at death for stealing the only thing that made sense in my life, angry at God for allowing it to happen especially after I prayed so hard and begged him to spare your life. I am still dealing with that. I know I should not blame anyone but I lost treasure, and find it difficult to understand.

I have had so many dreams of you since your passing, some soothing to the heart, some heartbreaking, some just added to my anger, but most of all some reassured me that maybe just maybe you are in a better place. I wish I could have as clear sign that you are ok.

I wish I could have a clear sign that you ok, that somehow we will always be connected. I hope you know just how much I miss you still and that I still love you dearly.

I have heard these words so many times ‘in time it will be better’, ‘time is the greatest healer’, ‘you will feel better in time’ that they started sounding like bluh bluh bluh bluh…

Every time I heard these words it only felt worse each day as it sunk in that I will never see you again in the land of the mortals. Now that time has lapsed I am starting to understand what these words meant because indeed I am feeling better. Now I can talk about you without shedding a tear.

I am far from acceptance, I must confess, but I know that though I may never understand I will eventually accept and move on. I still visit your grave whenever I miss you too much, I am not sure why but I feel better every time I do.

It still feels like a bad dream that you are gone forever, that my eyes shall never behold your face nor my ears you voice hear, that my hands shall never touch you nor my body your touch feel.

I remember you and all the good times, the challenges, the arguments, the laughs, the tears, the joys and most of all the dreams we had for the future.

Well you are gone my love my friend and my soul mate but you are far from forgotten you shall forever be in my heart for you left an everlasting mark in my life.

You had an impact that no one has ever had, you were one of a kind, a once in a lifetime. If there is anyone out there more honest than you I am yet to meet them, you were honest even if the truth was bitter and I respected you for that.

I pray that your soul rest in eternal peace and that God be with you till we meet again. Catherine Mabe Manku Maduwane
I will always love and miss you.

Yours always

Nokuthula Thuli Tshili

 

manku s photo_3976

 

 

 

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2014 Sept. 8: Manku and her niece buried next to each other

 

 

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2014 Oct. 21: A tribute to the late lover

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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This entry was posted in Health, Sexual Liberation, Sexual orientation, Sexuality, Sexuality in South Africa, Sharing, Sharing knowledge, Sharing thoughts, South African Visual Activism, Space, Speaking for ourselves, Women's struggles, Women's Work, Womenonwomen, Words, Worked for us, Writing is a Right, Years, Youth, Youth voices and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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