A random memory.

I grew up in the countryside. A very beautiful and intimate village in the Western region of Kenya.

I love that place with every fibre in me.

My sister loved hanging out with this neighbor. She was way older, this neighbor. They were the best of friends though.

She, my neighbor was widowed. So technically she understands grief really well.

This one evening she was seeing us off, I always would follow my sister around. She hated that🤣. I loved being in her space so.

The subject  of death came up. My question was simple “How, do people handle death” I preceded “I don’t know I’d ever handle this life past losing a loved one.” Their answer was simple,  and really cold. “You just accept it has happened, that’s everyone’s path”

I refused to let that sit in my head. At the back of my mind, I always silently wished that I’d be the first to die in my family. I couldn’t fathom losing any of my family. They are my heart those ones. ❤️

Two years down the line, my sister, the one I always would follow around died.

I was like wtf! How do I move past this.

Sadly life goes on.

This was just a random memory..❤️