Bitter Taste of Christmas

 

I can vividly remember 15/12/2010‎ like it was yesterday. 

On the fateful evening of 14/12/2010, my youngest uncle had called to inform us that a group of foreign medical experts came to Orlu Teaching hospital, Imo state to operate on patients with goitre, and that he enrolled my grand-ma.

Mama had being with this goitre for years and had previously objected to surgery. How my uncle convinced her to participate this time around is still a mystery to me.

After receiving his call that day, I was delegated to travel to the village. I grudgingly accepted, not that I didn't want to visit mama, but I felt marginalised. Nobody considered my itinerary prior to the mandated visit.

Because I loved my grand-ma so much, I agreed. And so on that fateful day-15/12/2010 I embarked my journey to the Orlu.

If I had known what fate had in store for my young heart, I would have done things differently from the previous day-when we received the call. For starters; I won't have grumbled for being the delegated one, whose opinion/plans were neither sort for nor concerned. And, I won't have taken my sweet time to get to the park that day.

As I got to Orlu town, I decided to get some provisions for mama, with the mindset to show those around her in the ward that she has rich children.

After spending awhile in Orlu market, I boarded a bike to the hospital. On getting there, I was directed to the female ward. I introduced myself to the nurse at the entrance, and proceeded to enter inside the ward.

The faces I saw inside the ward were all strangely familiar, but none of them was my grand ma. Before exiting the ward, I asked an elderly woman inside the ward about my grandma. 

"She has been discharged. The operation was successful, so your uncle took her home earlier today". The elderly woman responded. 

How she knew was not my concern at the moment. I was excited that the operation was successful, angry that my uncle didn't give me or my mom this  update. And also, I was confused as to the fact that they discharged her in less than 48hours after a major surgery.

But who am I to question such good news? With those mixed emotions I thanked the woman and exited the ward with my bag full of the goodies I bought for mama. Less than two minutes I stepped out of the ward, I heard, "Auntie, my grandma is calling you". A young boy beckoned.

"What again?" I just want to rush to my village, hug my own favourite grandma & show her the goodies I bought for her.

As I turned to re-enter the ward that I just exited, my heart started beating. As I entered to answer this strange woman I just met less than 10 minutes ago, I knew something wasn't right.

Words can't explain what the next few minutes (it took this stranger to be the bearer of the worst news I've ever heard) were for me.

I went into denial, my beloved grandma can't be dead. The nurses/doctors must have made a mistake. They probably didn't confirm that she had no breathe in her before taking her to the mortuary. 

I felt so angry with myself. And I blamed myself for so many things. Why did I delay that morning before traveling. Why didn't I journey very early,-that way, I would have been my her bedside. That way, I would have helped her fight the 'incompetent' medical personnels who 'wrongly' pronounced her dead. Why did I stop to buy stuffs, when I could have gotten there earlier (before they 'wrongly and hurriedly' took my grandma to the morgue).

They say 'acceptance' is one of the stages of grief. I think it's more of 'reluctant acceptance'. Accepting cos there's no other option.

I went to the morgue the very next day to prove that my grandma was wrongly placed there. The scenario was going to be that; she either will be gasping for breathe prior to my coming or once I touch her, she will wake up to see her baby.

Unfortunately, I got a rude re-awaking, cos the body I touched with my eyes filled with tears, was so different from the body that cuddled my for years. The body that held me whenever I travel to the village, only to fall ill (it happened alot), was so different form the one I touched that day 16/12/2010.

 And, even ten-years after the demise of my wonderful grandma, I still feel that I could have done something (no matter how minute) to avert the  outcome of that fateful day. I still miss my beautiful, kind, caring and ever-loving grandma, Ada-Oyibo.

So, ten years after, I decided to erase the bitter taste 15/12/2010 left in my mouth for Christmas. I've decided to reclaim the joy, peace, love, happiness associated with this wonderful festive season.

It's not really consequential whether you believe that December is the actual birth month of our Lord & Saviour Jesus Christ, or not.

December is that month that we strategically plan to relax from the stress and hurdles associated with the first 11months of each year.

It's that time of the year that we make more conscious effort to remember the less privileged.

Join #K3C make this year's Christmas memorable for the motherless, orphans & those in the prison. Let them enjoy the sweet taste of Christmas. #KeepChristInChristmasAlways