THE EXIT OF MY MOM'S HUSBAND

The write-up is based on my life experience.

The Exit of My Mother's Husband

"What is this life if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare… "A writer once wrote. As I sat on the rainbow-like spring bench horizontally facing the window in the hollow sitting room, behind me was the magnificent bar I once adored as a kid whenever my siblings and I came over for birthday parties hosted by my mom’s children. Today that radiant attraction was no more, it had lost its glory. Maybe it was just me or the current mood of the house or perhaps it had really lost its touch. Placing my palms in my face I quickly brushed the thoughts away, it was not important right now. There was something more crucial at the moment, sitting beside me was my mom fully engulfed in sadness, I saw the pain that replaced the dried tears in her swollen eyes though in this pathetic situation I still was proud of her cos she really did put up a good fight not breaking down and being all dramatic like the Nigerian women we see in our home videos. She fought to maintain courage as friends uttered words of encouragement most which were just for formality sake not like they really meant it. Wrapping my arms around her shoulder I pulled her in to my chest muttering words I didn't even understand. Also beside her by the left on the bench was my younger brother, it seemed like we were the only ones she trusted at the moment in that room as sympathizers spat out those untrue words which clung to the air inside the room. I was deeply pained as the bitter truth hit me -my mother was now a 'widow'. I fought back the tears knowing it will cause more harm than good. A man in a grey French suit was speaking now, he possessed the resemblance and charisma of a modern day young professor he looked dazed and his voice quivered a little as he spoke. The man was my father.

It was on a Saturday the 1st of August as we sat preparing to eat breakfast that my dad got a call saying my mom’s husband had left. Breakfast was ruined immediately as we all fell into frantic positions, logically trying to fix the truth in the message, it was unbelievable. This woman became my mom after my real mother passed on. They were best of friends, the only person I ever heard her speak of so often aside from God. I will always respect this woman that took it as a burden to see that our lives were not in shambles after my mother's exit. She helped organize my dad's life giving him back a sense of belonging. She became the only mother after my mother.

My dad was no longer on the sofa backing the window in front of me, he walked up to where we sat tapping my mom on the shoulder, they began a whispering conversation making nonverbal signs to each other, I could tell what they were saying cos I understood their language he was warning her to be careful of sympathizers and always soak herself in the blood of Jesus. My dad from experience had witnessed a lot of this when my real mother passed on, it was all sorry stories day and night from sympathizers spitting promises that will never be kept, our home gradually became a guest house due to the fact that some of the sympathizers came to stay for a period before they went back to their families. Personally speaking I did not enjoy those weeks, I couldn't do things I did before, and privacy was another important thing that was breached during those periods I almost became claustrophobic due to the large amount of unusual entities now living in the house. It was acutely terrible! I later discovered that the feelings were mutual for my dad and all my siblings… we needed our space to recoup and plan ahead but at the same time we did not want to be rude to the sympathizers.

Their conversation soon ended and we had to leave, my dad explained to her that we needed to go see his mother before we traveled back the next morning and it was already getting late. Forcing a smile she looked up at my younger brother who took her by the hands telling her to be strong, I in turn placed my hand on her shoulder and slowly nodded as she met my gaze. I perceived those few moments, she would cherish forever.

As we turned to leave I felt the tears gather in my eyes, although I really didn't know her husband that much but for the fact that he was my mom's husband was reason enough for a grown man to cry, closing my eyes I could picture the frame hanging on the walls of the sitting room just beside the bar, it bore an image of him wearing a black hat. This image I may never forget in many years to come. Stepping out into the cool evening breeze, as we made our way back to the car I realized he paid the debt that all men pay.

OKECHUKWU PROSPER.E