Wednesday, 6 May 2015

When I'm Gone.

I often wonder what will happen when I'm gone when I bid farewell to the world and embark on an unknown journey to meet my creator. Thoughts like this often cross my mind after having a bad dream which is very frequent or when someone really young I know dies. I've heard about the death of a lot of young people over the last few years from a classmate to a friend, school mate, people I walked past in the corridors  there was a time in secondary school where a person died from each graduating senior year, a friend of a friend, someone who I've said hello to.

The one that really hit me was the death of my friend, Larry, it came as a shock because we didn't know he was sick, we all thought he didn't look right, was too skinny and amongst other things but we never asked we just went about our business and me with my silly jokes. After a while we got so used to seeing him the jokes weren't funny, Larry didn't attend my uni but when he started coming he couldn't stop, we would get to the common room and he was always there waiting.
People took advantage of his looks and kindness which pissed off some of the people who actually cared about him. " Is it me or you are looking fine theses days?" was the last thing I said to him the last time I saw him.  We didn't see him for months, but we always talked about him during our daily card games.

I was discharged from the hospital after been admitted for 3 days the news of his death was posted on social media and I was one of the last people to find out since I had no WiFi at the hospital and the first thing that crossed my mind was that this could have been me. My case was not half as serious as his, but people went to the hospital with headaches and never came back, I didn't stop bleeding, I knew what was going on, but I didn't want to admit it, I would raise a lot of eyebrows so I just played along. I never grieved my personal loss, but the is it a loss when you never wanted something. It was in a better place.

His funeral mass was held at the chapel of the hospital which was close to the mortuary, for some reason I ended up in the wrong building and once I stepped in, I felt a cold chill run down my spine so I walked out, it played back in my head and it took me a few days to realise I walked into the mortuary instead of the chapel.

The last few years the deaths happened at least twice a year, the 'Did you hear ?' or the long social media statuses of mourners. And each death leave me wondering how many years, months, days or weeks I have left?
What would people say about me?
How many more people do I have to mourn about?
Who will mourn me?

Each death leaves me getting close to God mentally, I plan how I would use that to beg for forgiveness and live the life of a true believer following the teachings of the Quran, but the thoughts only stay in my head and quickly disappeared after the box touches the ground nd is fully covered with sand.
Today was with the news on the death of a young teenager who I've seen at the mosque the few times I go, my mind immediately turned on it grief mode, planning a lifetime of getting closer to God.

Death is a horrible thing and I hope and pray we all live to see old age before the pages of our life runs and before we are summoned.

Until next time,

1 comment:

  1. It's a terrible thing in that it takes away the people that we love and hold dearly, and it's a beautiful thing too...they get to go to a better place, and are just a step ahead of us.
    Great thoughts and best wishes!