True story.

Hello Friday, and hello you 😊. I have a story to tell today, It’s a lot of the truth and a bit of my imagination. I started writing this in the year 2013 but never completed it. Now seeing that my last post was “start where you are” I thought it wise to follow my advice and start completing many unfinished write ups. So I’m starting here. Enjoy.

I can just imagine how it must have been that morning, that fateful Monday morning…

A young man, with a great job and a promising future. He woke up that morning, already mapping out his agenda for the working week. Getting up, he made mental plans for the whole day; a meeting to attend, projects to complete, calls to make and people to see. Putting on his shirt, pants and tie, he stepped out into a new day, the sun shining in all its radiance, smiling down on him, beckoning, giving him hope that it indeed was a beautiful day….

A thousand miles away, across many oceans, is a mother. I see her waking up early that morning grateful to God for the weekend and making plans for the new week. I see her singing praises to God as she walks around the house getting ready for the day. She prays, asking God to keep ‘her boys’ safe, especially the one whose health is so fragile because he has sickle-cell anemia. I see her telling God to strengthen and protect him. She must have spoken to him the day before happy to hear how things were going for him. Getting to the office, she is swamped by work, she gets busy with all the decisions to be made for the new week, ordering her staff on what to do and focusing on the tasks ahead she settles down to face the challenges of the day.

If we could take a peep into the hours that lie ahead of us and see the twists and turns that fate would bring, would it prepare us better for what is ahead? Would it make the impact less devastating?

That same afternoon, a call came in, it was an international number. Mother picked, distracted by all the work before her she didn’t grasp at first what the message was, but the sense of urgency in the voice on the other end drew her attention. All that stood out to her were the words “your son is sick”, she didn’t have to ask which one, mother’s instinct told her exactly which it was, it was her precious fragile boy, the one for whom she continually said unending prayers. She tried not to panic, praying to God as if by reflex that it would be something mild, that God would protect her son as he had always done, after all it wasn’t the first time he’d have a crises. In her mind she’s already making plans far ahead of her; she’d have to get off work and go be with her son if need be. She had forgotten that she was still on the call till the voice on the other end pulled her out of her thoughts, the voice wasn’t done “the condition progressed rapidly, we tried our best to resuscitate, he’s presently in the ICU”. I can imagine the panic rising; she calls those she can, telling them to pray, God had to answer. Her mind is reeling, She has to get home, she has to plan but everything is happening so fast. She is just five steps out the door when another call comes in. it’s the same international number “I’m sorry madam but your son has gone into coma……” she didn’t hear the rest, the sound of her beating heart overshadowed the voice. it must have felt more like a blow than just words. I picture her pleading with her heavenly father, hoping, believing that he’d intervene. This wasn’t the first time, and God had seen them through the worst. She’s still believing, she’s still praying, still hoping for the best.

Halfway home, the phone rings again, the same number, for some reason she hesitates, then she pushes the button on the left and slowly lifts the phone to her ear. Her heart goes still and then it starts beating erratically, in her mind she’s wishing she can see what lay ahead, “a mother always knows”, they say, but did she? This time the voice was as downcast as ever and the words were so clear “Your son is dead……”.  It was the final blow, it hit like a hurricane and now I can’t imagine how she must have felt, I can’t imagine how her heart must have bled, what prayer was she to offer now? 

To be continued……


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