Sigh…never expected to be writing this post but oh well…here
goes.
I lost my Dad on Feb 26th this year.
See ehn, one of the things that genuinely gets me scared, I’m
talking bone-chilling, heartbeat freezing scared was the thought of losing any
of my loved ones.
It’s funny how your mind plays tricks on you and you never
get to really understand how large a chunk of yourself gets torn out in this
kind of situation until you’ve literally been awake for days and all you can
think about is how on fucking earth’s sake you’re expected to go on without
this person.
Now it’s fucking happened.
I guess writing about it may help to sort out however I’ve
been feeling.
Mom calls us weeks before and tells us Dad has not been
feeling too well…truthfully, none of us are too panicked as yet because even
though the man’s health has not always been the best, he’s a renowned fighter
and those bouts of sickness which come once in a while have always been shaken
off quickly….So we send some money home and take time to call regularly.
It’s during these phone calls that I start to get the
shakes.
My dad has always always been very cerebral, clear-headed, and articulate so how and when did he start sounding disjointed, confused, and
to be honest, rambling at times? The first few times, I pass it off as just
plain tiredness and maybe a drug-induced condition.
But this goes on and it becomes a struggle every time you
call and insist on speaking to him.
I really panicked at some point and call my brothers to
voice my serious concerns…they have experienced same and I start getting this
sense of dread in my stomach at every point.
Forward to a week later and Mom calls to let us know that he
had to be rushed to the hospital as his blood sugar dropped
drastically!!... This is very weird because Dad has managed diabetes for about
20 years and monitors his sugar levels RELIGIOUSLY. The doctors are concerned
about his blood sugar levels and start giving him insulin injections(something
he’s never had to take ever before).
My personal shakes increase X2.
He’s discharged and comes back home where he continues on the
insulin injections and honestly, the situation doesn’t improve a whole lot. Every time I call, Mom (God bless her)always goes “your dad is sleeping/resting”
,” He’s a bit better today”, “We thank God, today was better than yesterday” and
trying her best (unsuccessfully for me)not to let us panic.
Late in the evening of stupid Feb 25th. Uche
calls me and is uncharacteristically very grave. He lets me know that Dad has been rushed to the hospital again and has
been put on oxygen!.
Man, at this point, I start getting hot/cold chills at the
same time and start praying as if
someone’s life depends on it… Bruh…I’m not sure how I survived that night.
Started trying to make travel plans to go to the village but after hearing that
Nnamdi is leaving first thing next morning, I change my mind and decide to let
him head there instead.
Morning of fucking Feb 26th and it’s been a
restless, sleepless night for me. I call Mom and everyone at the hospital is
strangely calm and asking us to pray for him to get through it all.
I start praying again and willing Cosmas to fight this shit
like he’s always done. He’s never one to give up easily so I try to summon
willpower for him from here in Lagos and urge my dad to fight this fucking
monster sickness.
My Dad gave up the fight later that morning and honestly I’m
not sure life can ever be the same again.
Mom calls me at work where I’ve gone to try and distract
myself and tells me in the calmest voice I’ve ever heard from her. No
hysterics, no crying(which she’s obviously been doing all night) and all the
while she’s the one trying to comfort me as I stand there on the staircase at
the back of Nairabet call center absolutely paralyzed with shock and receive
what is undoubtedly the worst news of my life!
Fucking February 26th 2020. My Dad has died.
That day I finally got to experience when people say they
got things done in a daze. The next few hours pass by in a blur and all I can
remember is calling Uche..breaking the news to him, pleading with him to send
his car so I can make sure there’s a way to get Ugo out of the office once I break
the news to her, calling Chioma to tell her, then going to Mark’s office to take
permission for some time off.
Letting Ugo know is something I’m not looking forward to. I’d
been at her place earlier today and she had been crying as well…..we decided to
come to the office to take our minds off things while we keep in touch with
Namo who had left for home that morning. I call Michael and ask him to bring
her downstairs, get Anita to be on standby to get her things from her office and
then break the news to her. She breaks down (thankfully, Uche’s driver has
already arrived) so we take her to the car while I pack up my stuff and we head
to Uche’s house.
The rest of the day passes for me in a grief-stricken haze.
I mask it all by keeping busy…making phone calls, informing relations, making
plans for the hospital procedures, talking with Chioma, receiving calls from
practically everyone and generally trying extremely hard to leave my mind
blank.
Somehow, somewhere at the back of my mind, my grieving
process amazes me. Seeing as this is being written in May, there’s this
acceptance that has finally come but even as at time of this going to press, I’ve
truly not been able to cry and let myself bawl as I had previously imagined.
The closest to tears I got was in Uche’s car comforting and holding Ugo as she
wept. It was utterly heartbreaking for me to see her so and that was that.
Daddy, laa n’udo. You were the best part of my life for so
long.
RIP Nze Cosmas Ogbonna Ibemere (1941-2020).
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