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Bittersweet 2

I knew I was going crazy. I could not afford to go crazy. I would lose clients and money, lots of it. As an interior decorator, a lot depends on being sane, clear and logical. I had to pull myself together as I made a decision. I had to see a shrink. I had no choice now. I went on line and made enquiries and I was able to get  one, an elderly male. I wanted someone who had seen life in all its ramifications. Our first appointment was on a Saturday morning. I woke up early, expectant and a little gay. I felt the weight of my grief would find relief that day. I showered quickly and threw on a gown, used a little lipstick and eyed myself critically in the mirror. I had lost a ton of weigh these past few weeks, but a little more make up would hide the hollows. I set to work and an hour later, I looked just fine I got a taxi which took me to the expansive office of the shrink on the island.  The office was a serene haven, designed to ease the mind and invite reflection. The room was spaciou
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Bittersweet

 It’s raining. It never stops raining here. Day and night it pours. Maybe it’s the seven day rain, it’s been on for only God knows how long.  In my mood, the cozy atmosphere of my sitting room which usually made me feel cheery, did nothing for me now Right from the feature soft, pastel colors like blush pink or lavender, with touches of gold or silver accents for elegance. Comfortable yet stylish furniture such as a plush sofa or chaise lounge adorned with decorative throw pillows complemented by a cozy rug and tasteful artwork on the walls. The  small bookshelf holding a collection of romantic novels, the scented diffuser with its hint of fragrance to the room. The indoor plants with its creation of a serene and inviting atmosphere, all did nothing for me. Rather, it all weighed down on me. The cold weather matches my mood. Cold, slushy and muddy. My heart is cold. Feels like ice is lodged right in the centre of it and me. I had cried myself to sleep, the night afore. I didn’t want to
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Even in Death 11

Femi was at Wale's bedside the following day. She watched the rise and fall of his chest in bemusement. Funny how some cling to life with tenacity. Refusing to let go of what can not be held to. Whilst others pray for death, others struggle to be parted from it in an exercise in futility. Femi played the dotting wife even as she looked at her husband broodingly. She was tired of the hospital visits and wished him gone now more than ever before. Their business was finished. She could not continue wasting her time and energy on a betrayer, a back stabber and an ingrate. Another week passed and one sunny afternoon, for the first time after the accident, he opened his eyes. They were all alone in the room and she was about dozing off when intuition made her look his way. He looked bewildered and then fearful as he set his eyes on her, she looked at him unfazed, somehow she knew he wanted to tell her something. Somehow, she knew he would pass away in a few minutes. He struggled to s
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Even in Death 10

Wale's family members also came visiting. Femi's parents would also come once in a while to visit.  Femi had lost so much weight within a week. The doctors, nurses and visitors looked at her in sympathy. She would sit quietly beside her husband wondering if he would ever open his eyes, wondering whether he would be able to say goodbye. Suddenly she longed  to be the last face he would see before going to the after life.  The doctors prognosis was bad. He has a 10 percent chance of recovery he had told her because of the extent of his injuries. On Sunday, she decided to take the day off to visit her mother. Wale's sister had been insistent she would sit with him for the day. She woke up late and decided not to go church. Was it fitting she should be in the presence of God, after all she had done? She queried herself. She had a leisurely shower and told the maid to make toast, and coffee for her. She ate slowly and dressed up in slacks and a crimson top. She felt like wearing
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Even in death 9

They say love is as strong as death. Femi thought so, maybe even stronger. As Wale lay immobile in that bed, she knew she would love him forever, regardless. In life and in the after life. Perhaps, that was her reason, her stance on the adoption matter. She loved Wale too much to share him with any child. She would come everyday in the morning and leave his bedside at night. Praying silently, her lips moving in supposed silent supplication to the God who could do all things. Sometimes she would lie partially on him. A part of her willing him to rise. Another part...seeking absolution. If only he hadn’t told her he had a child outside their marriage! Things would have been so different! She didn’t know how to share, it was too late now, to learn to Her mind went to that dark, windy morning, a few days ago when her husband confessed to her his ‘mistaken' infidelity She was at the breakfast table, sipping a creamy cup of decaffeinated coffee, looking through a fashion magazine, contem
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Even in Death 8

Life can play some really cruel tricks on one…especially when one becomes somewhat complacent Femi had cause to ask herself, afterwards ‘Did I really become complacent? Was I careless? In any way?’ Their automobile business expanded, Wale was handling things beautifully and  Femi really couldn’t ask for more. Well, maybe asides the secret tears she still shed for a child. The pangs she felt whenever friends or relatives came visiting with their kids or generally whenever she ran into children. They had…. She had so much money, but what was the essence of it without someone…a child to call her own? Sometimes she dreamt she was holding kids, playing with them in the garden but, upon waking and seeing the emptiness not just in her hands but in the house, she would breakdown in bitter tears. Wale tried again and again over the years to get her to change her mind over adoption but she wouldn’t budge. On their tenth wedding anniversary they travelled to Dublin. They were away for two weeks a
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Even in Death 7

Days drew into weeks, weeks drew into months and then years. Time flew like the wind sometimes to Femi's dismay. Femi's mother never gave up inviting her for church programmes and either sending or bringing holy water/ oils for her to use. A one stop cure for her barrenness. Femi collected them dutifully…and threw them in the bin whilst Wale looked on in uneasiness. She had gone to see some specialists in secret and the results were all the same, nothing could be done to make her fertile. She had cried and cried and eventually wiped the tears off her eyes… and heart. Wale's relatives who depended on her more or less for their livelihood were in no position to put pressure on her, at least to her face. She had decided to be calculatingly generous to them because of that same reason.  She raised funds for herself and Wale to start their own indigenous automobile repair company with branches in Lagos and Abuja. Wale was the MD/ CEO. Femi was concerned with making her husband h
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