A Blessing In Disguise (New and Old)

My father died in 2003 after being unconscious for four days.

He was working out of the state we lived in (and still live in), and we only had a landline phone, so we usually waited for him to call. My mother worried that he hadn’t called for days, but none of us could have imagined that he had an accident.

So on Sunday, after the accident on Friday, my elder brother called my father’s mobile and gets shocking news about my father being in an accident which was so serious, the car tumbled many times.

We didn’t tell my mother for fear of her reaction, but on Monday my father’s company sends money for her to travel after someone called them, using the number on my father’s ID card.

So my mother leaves Lagos as soon as she can on Monday night (after we told her that my father was down with Malaria and typhoid. She had no idea he was unconscious) and she gets to the hospital in Port Harcourt on Tuesday morning.

She was told that my father died five minutes before she got there, and she actually saw him being wheeled out. I don’t want to think about the shock and pain which coursed through her.

But I digress.

My father died in 2003, and never since that time has my mother talked about his death without bitterness or pain. She always wished he was alive, as she believes things wouldn’t have been so bad if he were alive.

We, her children, have told her to move on and live, but sometimes we shut up because we know that no sane person goes through life hoping to lose their spouse sometime in future. A companion should be around for like... forever?

So we are used to her anger, pain and bitterness anytime she talks about my father, but recently something changed.

My younger sister had a baby girl, which I have talked about, here and here, and shared a little about her birth here.

My little niece was born out of wedlock, and initially, that brought shock, confusion and pain to the family. We are Christians and to an extent, we felt like we had failed, and then we wondered what the world would say. We were temporarily blinded to the fact that the father of the child was present and obviously plans to be for a long time, we were blinded to the fact that she could have attempted an abortion which was worse. We were shocked.

We had to brave our fears and somehow we are living with the surprise which is turning out to be a pleasant one.

My niece, Tiaraoluwa, is the only grandchild close enough for my mother to experience her growth. She smiles to my mother, talks (more like gurgles) with her, and recognises her voice.

My Sister and her baby

My mother may not be conscious of this, but I think the child gives her something to look forward to.

Some days back, my two sisters, the new mother and another, argued with my mother on something about the child, and my mother referred to my father without an iota of anything negative.
She said, “I wish your father was here so you could ask him.” She said this without pain, just candidness, and I was surprised.

I didn’t care about what they argued about, I just smiled at her reaction; it was a welcome development.

I am convinced that for the old to be truly done with, a new has to be brought to life. To do away with the past, the present has to thrive. To do away with a bad habit, replace it with a good one, and finally, as Socrates said, “The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.”

Source

My mother is healing, I see a new spring in her step. I see a new willingness to go on. I see a new wonder about what greatness tomorrow holds, and I can’t shake away feeling that it is because of my little niece.

She is turning out to be a blessing in disguise.