Grief: The Call I Can’t Forget

What I hate about grief is that it comes in the midst of life troubles, that you don’t get enough time nor space to mourn.

One of my greatest sadnesses was not being there emotionally and physically to support my mum in her transition phase.

She died one year after I relocated to the United States. I had just had a baby, I was all alone with a 3 month old newborn and a 4 year old toddler. I had a swiftly moving Research Assistant job and schooling full time. We were in the midst of classes and finishing up a demanding project that required my full presence.

My visa and livelihood depended on keeping that job and being registered in school, so I couldn’t take time off even though I had just had a baby. The baby came with many complications, not minding that I was all alone, I had him via an emergency C section and, a few weeks in, I was back in an operating room to remove an already ruptured appendix.

In between all this trauma, I had no seconds to stop, I would be awake all night alone with all the physical pains from the C section and appendix, with a clingy baby who cried all night.

There was no end in sight!!!

My mum raised all her four children single handedly, fought tooth and nail to see that we all went to the University, but Nigeria is hard for people who do not have connections, so her reward was not quick. At the time I was leaving, hope was finally near, but little did I know that hope was still far away……

She passed on a Sunday (or maybe a Saturday), depending on the time zone you were looking at. The previous Thursday, I was on a video call with her, pleading with her to allow her picture to be taken so I could do her International Passport, I was going to try all I could to bring her over (or maybe I was just giving her hope), because what kind of magic would I have pulled considering all what I was going through myself.

Saturday morning, I was interviewing a potential nanny because the weight was now too much for me to carry alone, when my phone rang, it was the girl who was staying with her. I called her back after the interview; what she did has never left my brain till now.

She just turned the phone towards my mum, she had foamed and was now pale, lying on her bed. In panic, I screamed and fell backwards. Without knowing what to do, I called my Pastor and a friend who lived close; they all came and we started praying……

Anyways, she still had a pulse, she hung on a little bit more afterwards. The last I saw her, she was on the hospital bed on oxygen, breathing rather too fast, it was the end!

Looking back, I recall the exact timing of her death because my phone suddenly stopped working. I tried all I could to turn it on but to no avail, so I went to a T Mobile shop and got an iPhone 13 on credit.

I lost all our WhatsApp and voice conversations for that singular act and still regret it till this day. By the time my phone came on, she had passed.

The next day was Sunday morning. Serlom and Peter (my good friends) were in my house to break the news to me (I had already heard from my brother at midnight).

I dressed up and went to church….

During worship, Sister Brittani Scott sang “Death Is Not the End,” and I just bent my face in very deep sorrow.