Fading Chrysanthemum

Life, the pulsating breath of God in a human spirit. The orbit of age around the clock. The uncertainty between birth and death. A gift to human kind, precious and yet so common. Every breath  a seldom ululation of solidness.

She reflects the frailty of life, the lines on her face symbolizing the years she has lived, a lifetime of smiles and the frowns. Her age is now just based on nostalgic sentiments and memories. A century old and her mind can not assimilate further information. I remember when she used to come and pick muhachas at my house, i would watch her through the window as she carefully selected the good ones from the bad. My heart would yearn to go and help her but i knew she hated special treatment. As far as she was concerned she was fit as everyone else.

mbuya Fumhwa (middle)

Every morning she would sit on the front porch softly humming to herself. I would wonder what goes on in her mind, and i would indulge in all the folktales she used to tell us. Humming songs of the old only known to her, i always begged her to teach me some of this songs but she would only smile and say some other time. She probably misses dancing i would tell myself, back in her days she was famous for her seductive dance moves. Her sense of humour so raw, and look what happened to me. Her laugh was almost like a crackle so contagious she would have everyone laughing like psychotics.

I have known her all my life, but now i can see a change in her. Its as if she is already dead, her resignation on life is almost tangible, i feel it…she has lost the zeal to live. The other time i woke her up, she slowly opened her eyes, and tears started trickling,  my heart broke as i watched her weep. ‘ nhai veduwe ndichirimupenyu!” she cried. Oh God she wanted to die. Almost everyone she had ever known was long dead and gone.She has lived life to the fullest through four different generations.

105 years she can barely do anything by herself. She is now delirious, she doesn’t know me anymore, hell she doesn’t know herself. She is in constant pain, old creaky bones, cannot walk,cant even enjoy the sun outside…she just doesn’t care anymore. Senile, home nurse, diapers is what is left of her. I pray everyday day for God to release her, she is an ancestor trapped in this world. The sun is setting, the chrysanthemums are wilting, the time is ripe, its the end of time…release her.

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