Nircle · Mon Cher Amor, My Sweet Love, My Valentine

Mon Cher Amor, My Sweet Love, My Valentine

Amarachi Anastasia Okoro
@amarachiokoro
1 year ago

THE GREY HANDS

“I will always love him till a day after forever. I don’t know if I will ever love someone as much I have loved him. I don’t think so, no, Never” she said to me, cleaning her tears quietly with her feeble wrinkled right fingers while I sat there (close to her) struggling to hold back my tears as she indulged me more about love, life and purpose. That was the first time I had a conversation with an elder, 69 old woman about the love of her life, her late husband, she lost to cancer. “This younger generation know nothing about love, not at all, all these madness we display is what we called love?” she hissed and continue, “Today’s definition is nothing but an illusion, fantasies, emotional attachment, feelings… Mtchwwww, what is feeling? She asked wearing an awkward smile. I stood there, staring down at her, as I was short of words. For some minutes, there was a pin drop of silence which me to realize that those blunt truth cut me so deep.

“Mama, what’s love then” I asked in a cold tone. She held my hands and strike home her point that love is not a feeling but a commitment, a decision to choose to care for someone regardless of who they are. It’s a decision to stay and work things out irrespective of your differences.
“Yes there is nothing special about what we call love, nothing ! It’s just us” I can see the grief in her eyes whispering the same thing to me.I asked her what about soul mate. She quickly hushed me and say “ it was all a lie, we built the connection”.

Honestly, I felt sad by those responds as she continued to speak, I found the hard to blink or take my eyes from her, as something in me told me “she is right”. How she poisoned my irrational belief on love by giving me a cup of truth to drink. “What was I thinking? What was I missing all this time? Is just me or the old lady was just spreading her grief from loss. No, it beyond that” I said to myself. That was the moment I choose to believe her.

As we continue our deep conversation about her life, she shared her beautiful moment and memories she had her husband to me. How he cooked for her whenever he notice she is tired and exhausted from work. How he cared for her during her first pregnancy period of their son, which nearly killed her. How they defend each other whenever their families start complaining about their financial status because they had none. The part that got me was how the husband was robbed and beaten at night because he was waiting for her for hours to come back home from her journey (it was very late and he can’t bear the thoughts of leaving his wife alone on the road). Indeed, it’s all about sacrifices and selfishness.

She was still telling her story when Aunty Nnedimma came and interrupted us. “mama please come, I want to tell you something, Onyeka just called me now”. Mama looked at her and asked her what happened. “Onyeka’s wife left him again, this time she took her two children”. Immediately, we both looked at each other and smiled at the bitter truth. You said in a low tone “you see..” Then, only I and I alone, understood what she meant. That was the end of our discussion as she accompanied my aunty to see his second son, who is wife forsook because of financial constraints. I was there all alone and said to myself “now I know”.

Days later, I wrote her a poem and it reads

Title: THE STARTLING TRUTH

I’ve been asking all the flowers about love?
Till the walls started talking
What a good liar that built it bricks higher
Her name is Rose; Rose was what he gave her.

I asked, how can one fall in love?
Since only corpses follow it footsteps
Muttering to it ghost between the stalls
Moving in sync in search for vigor of hope

Oh Dearie, how can one be in love?
When it break our bones bits by bits
And it heal our heart beats by beats
Yet, I’ve love more than words can wield

How can I honor this guess feelings?
When my winter took it first breath in spring
Is she the architect of her happy ending?
Is she the mystic of her last days?

Now, who will end up saving her?
As the stillness of dawn add to her enchantment.
Now I know why her caged birds sings
Now I know why “Nothing last Forever”

#Poetry
#hellonircle
#nirclestories
#writinginprogress
#Nirclecommunity
#valentine