Maama

 I stealthily take peeks at the clock every few minutes. My mind swiftly travels the 10000 odd miles and in my mind's eye I see the events unfold. They are preparing to place him in the coffin. His final journey will begin soon. They will take him to church and then to the cemetery. They said he will share the space that his son currently is resting in. He has a few more hours left of sharing this earthly abode with us and then he will truly be gone. From us, from all of us. He will become a memory, a bittersweet one. I cannot reconcile myself to the fact that it is happening yet again. 

Why him? 

The word maama is usually reserved for one's mother's male sibling. But your father's sisters husbands are also allowed to use the same honorific. And for my sister and I, the only maama we have known was my aunt's husband. They were married in 1975 when my sister was almost four and I was close to three years old. And our maama has been in our lives ever since.

Adults have their own thing going. But how they interact with kids is indicative of their goodness and my maama aced that one!

I am 52 now and he still will sound so happy to hear my voice and see me in person. A fish person out and out, he'll bring bucketsful of fish for us and even convince my aunt who doesn't need much convincing, to cook for us.

My most favorite memory is of me being 17, finishing up my last year of school and attending Math tutoring at one of his neighbor's house.  He used to wait for me to be done and walk to his house, serve me breakfast that my aunt  would have left for me before she went off to school, and then drop me back home in his bike. This happened twice every week for a few weeks and I still remember the love and concern with which he used to plate up the food for me and wait till I was done eating. Serving food is still a feminine thing but he mothered me everytime he did that for me. And even now the sweet addition of 'ma' to my name when he addressed me, made me feel like a seven year old kid indulged in an uncle's affection. Recently he asked me for a favor through a friend of mine and I feel so happy I was able to do it for him, thanks to my friend indulging me. Thank you ma!

Life put some much of physical distance between us and we spoke not very often, but every conversation was easy, with grievences being aired and comfort being offered...maama weathered the loss of his son and made it for eight more years, but the loss and ensuing things took a toll on him. 

I woke up today and it was all done. Maama is a memory now. 

He is truly at rest I'm sure. He needs it. Hopefully he's caught up with his kid and they are somewhere out there shooting the breeze. So long, maama, the only maama I've ever felt loved by. Thank you for all that you did for us and we will for ever love you and miss you.