Tag Archives: inspiration

Broken! God, where are you?

God, where are you? Have you ever gotten to that point where you look around, and the pitiable state people are in; the deplorable state of affairs just makes you wonder if God exists for real, and if He does, why He’s watching quietly as everything goes (seems to go) awry? This past week I’ve found myself in related instances. Seeing the world through someone else’s eyes might bring into view a very bleak perspective of things.

A couple of days ago, my small sis came home looking so broken. Her eyes were all droopy and, her shoulders slouched. I could tell all was not well with her. “I cried today”, she told me.

I was in the kitchen preparing supper, so I just paused, knife in hand to look at her. “Why?”  I asked her.

A dejected sigh escaped her, before she answered, “When I was coming home, I saw this child on the street. From my estimation, he couldn’t be older than five. He was seated, leaning against a wall. I wanted to give him some biscuits I’d bought because I figured he was hungry. He was asleep, so I tried waking him up but he wouldn’t open his eyes”.

I was expecting the worst at that point… and I started dreading that the next words coming out of her mouth would be, he was dead. God-forbid! She sniffled before continuing, “I thought he was on drugs or something. Maybe some other kids already introduced him to them.”

“For most street kids it’s some sort of coping mechanism,” I explained. Then I figured he was only a small boy. I don’t have much experience with babies that I can use as some point of reference but I know some fall into deep sleep when they do get to sleep. So I also told her the same thing; or maybe, he’d been hungry for so long so he was too weak. I hoped it was the former. I know how it feels to go for a long time without food and honestly, I wouldn’t wish that, even on my worst enemy.

“When I figured he wasn’t waking up I just tucked the packet of biscuits under his sweater so the older kids wouldn’t snatch them from him. Guess what Aly? That’s when I noticed he didn’t have legs”.

“What?” I couldn’t help my surprised look. It’s not unusual to see a street child whose legs have been amputated, or who was born with under developed limbs, but hearing that about a homeless boy, and who was of such a tender age for that matter, made my heart bleed. He was out on the cold streets alone, and helpless. It certainly had to be harder for him living out in this callous world, with no one to fend for him or defend him.

His mom must have left him out there when she figured he was going to be a differently abled child. How unfair, I thought. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to live, knowing I left him out there,” my sister interrupted my momentary thoughts. “I haven’t a clue where he is. I’m scarred Aly.” She seemed broken, as those words left her mouth.

It wasn’t hard to imagine how tormented she must have been feeling. She has a big heart, and half of the times she does things even I have trouble comprehending. Sometimes I ask her not to let people take advantage of her kindness, because that’s just who she is. If there’s any weakness in her, I can bet that would be her biggest weak spot. I fear it would make her too gullible. But that aside, there was a baby living out there on the cold streets alone. The thought itself made my heart ache.

“God knows where that boy is,” I told her, “so let’s pray for Him to provide for him and that He may also keep him from harm’s way”. Nodding, she acquiesced. I could tell she would have wanted to do more for the child, but as it is, we’re so strapped for cash it hurts. Nowadays we’re merely getting by…

This and some other incidents reminded me of this Lenten reflection/prayer:

“My Jesus, the world still has you on trial. It keeps asking who You are and why You make the demands You make. It asks over and over the question, ‘if You’re God’s Son, why do You permit the world to be in the state it’s in?’

Why are you so silent?”

“…Your humility frustrates me, and makes me uncomfortable. Your strength before Pilate as You drank deeply from the power of the Father, gives me the answer to my question- The Father’s Will. The Father permits many sufferings in my life, but it’s all for my good. If only I too could be silent in the face of worldly prudence- steadfast in the faith when all seems lost; calm when accused unjustly; free from tyranny of human respect; ready to do the Father’s will, no matter how difficult”.

“Silent Jesus, give us all the graces we need to stand tall in the face of the ridicule of the world. Give the poor the strength not to succumb to their privation, but to be ever aware of their dignity as sons of God. Grant that we may not bend to the crippling disease of worldly glory, but be willing to be deprived of all things rather than lose your friendship.

My Jesus, though we are accused daily of being fools, let the vision of quiet dignity standing before monstrous injustice, give us all the courage to be your followers. Amen”.

 

Red flags? Run, baby run… Part 2

In reality, when one loves for real, they lack the willpower to pull the plug on a relationship that already feels dead. One keeps holding on, tolerating all the pain, in the hope that the relationship will work out somehow. If experience has taught me anything, it’s that a failed relationship is just that; a failed relationship. Most of the time our instincts warn us, but we choose to ignore them.

I’ll keep saying it over and over again; sometimes it’s better to walk out than hold on to a relationship that’s already dead. The consequences are just not worth it. For instance, the friend of my friend’s sister is only twenty six years old. That’s too young to be going through marital hell. She knows her husband cheats on her but she doesn’t seem to find that an issue, and why you ask? Because she loves him.

These past few days alone, I’ve witnessed mom going through untold hell. Dad’s only getting meaner with each passing day. He’s already said he won’t be paying my sister’s school fee and mine. He doesn’t seem to care that I’ve only two semesters of law school to go. So now I’m putting all my faith in God. Only He knows why all things are happening this way.

One of my greatest consolations is that my big sister finished her masters degree and she managed to do it without dad’s help. So maybe after all, we won’t need his help either. I live for the day we’ll be freed from his imposed dominance. For instance, I’m unable to point out when he errs because he holds my school fee over my head, so if I openly disagree with him he threatens to cut me off.

Nowadays I avoid him like a plague because I won’t feel the need to lash back if I don’t hear or see him doing irksome things; and as it is, that’s who he is. Unfortunately, he still gets under my skin because he treats everyone else with utter disregard for their well-being. I’m pretty sure I hate him, but I’m constantly asking God to grant me the grace not let hate corrupt my soul.

My sister tried talking to him the other day after he publicly threatened to call some young men to beat mom up, and that was after he’d almost run her over. I knew he has a dark soul, but deep down I hoped he had changed. This wouldn’t be the first time he hit her in public, but the last time that happened was about a decade ago. My small sister is still traumatised by the events of that day.

One thing I’m pretty sure of is that if mom could go back in time, she’d make different choices. Lately she’s been saying constantly that there were red flags all around her when she and dad started going out; but she was a young naïve woman, who actually believed love conquers all. Apparently, it doesn’t always. In my humble opinion, love only triumphs when both parties in the relationship are willing to fight for their love.

Yesterday when we were leaving for church in the morning, dad was getting home after spending the night out drinking. He even had the audacity to ridicule us. According to him, God’s punishing us while He’s blessing Him. On a bad day, that might have crushed my spirits; because on the face of it, that’s how I’d interpret this dreadful situation we’re in.

Dad’s getting meaner by the day, yet he doesn’t seem to be suffering in any way. On the other hand, every day my mom, sisters and I feel like God has given up on us. But deep down I know He hasn’t. He acts in time, so we just need to continue hoping in Him.

The things dad said when we were leaving for church had me thinking he’s become the devil incarnate. Worse still, when we came back from church we found he’d locked the door from inside and had left the key in the keyhole. We panicked. I rang the doorbell a couple of times, hoping he would be kind enough to open. But he didn’t.

My small sis tried pushing the key out with another key but she failed. My big sis, who had gone to sit on the steps in anguish, afraid we would stay outside until dad decided to show mercy on us just rose, deciding to try her luck.

After a few attempts she finally managed. I just can’t explain how overjoyed we were. That felt like a major triumph. The possibility that dad might have fallen into deep slumber, given his inebriated state had us terrified. Worst part is my big sis had locked the door herself when she was leaving but dad – in an unnecessary show of might- opened the door and locked it from inside, so that had us reading malice into the whole thing.

When we walked into the house, mom obviously went straight to their bedroom and lo, and behold! Dad was just standing at the window, casually looking outside. Meaning he had seen us walking to the house, and even heard the doorbell ringing, but he chose not to open the door. Where I am right now, I feel like we’re living with the enemy.

Financial dependence is incapacitating. I can only think of one reason why my sisters and I are still living with dad. But where I’m at, I’m so convinced that when I move out I don’t want to remember I have a father. So in my humble opinion, one should run if the relationship they’re in feels dead. There’s no need waiting up to a point where everything just comes crumbling.

Red flags? Run, baby run… Part 1

You’re in a relationship, and there are red flags flying all around; alarms are just ringing… when is the best time to run? If you’ve been asking yourself that question, now might be the time to run. Don’t wait till it’s too late. A few weeks ago I was walking from class with a friend, and I was asking how she’d been the previous day since I hadn’t seen her. She went on to tell me how she had visited her sister and how she witnessed her sister’s friend, who was also visiting, go into labour.

She said it so casually so I just figured it was no biggie. It was just another case of an expectant woman realizing time had come for their bundle of joy to come into the world. At first I thought the lady’s labour pains were just a false alarm, until it hit me that she was actually going into labour. Only difference is, she hadn’t been rushed to hospital yet because she had rung her husband and was waiting for him to come drive her to the hospital.

My sister’s friend was nursing an infant herself and therefore couldn’t drive her friend to hospital. It took them a while to realise the dad-to-be, wasn’t going to be arriving soon. The lady obviously started panicking, afraid that her baby would die if she didn’t get to hospital soon. She had lost triplets before, so naturally she was afraid the same fate would befall this unborn baby.

Two hours later, on realizing that the friend’s husband had bailed, my  friend’s sister called a cab. About an hour later, the dad-to-be showed up, just when the cab was also arriving. Disappointingly, he was drunk. I had trouble understanding why the guy was acting so slothfully when the matter at hand sounded like it required urgent attention. If they hadn’t lost three babies already I just might have understood him, but realising what was at stake made me judge him harshly.

I’ve seen guys who are excited about the thought of being dads. It’s usually that excitement, coupled with the love they feel for their wives/baby mamas,. This particular dad-to-be however, couldn’t have seemed far from interested. He didn’t seem remotely concerned about the grief his wife would be subjected to if she lost a fourth child. My heart bled for the lady.

At first one would imagine the guy was just nervous about how this delivery was going to turn out; and in such a case, that would be perfectly understandable. However, what I gathered is that the man’s a philanderer. He’s always getting involved with younger girls because apparently he feels he’s very hot so in his opinion they find him irresistible.

“He must be on top of some woman, when his wife is here waiting for him,” my sister’s friend had speculated when she saw the panicky state her friend was in. Thankfully, the lady got to hospital safe but delivered through C-section as she’d taken too long to get to hospital since she went into labour. She had a bouncing baby girl. That was a miracle if you ask me.

It’s only been two years since lady got married to this guy. In my books, they should still be in their honeymoon stage, where they are still madly in love with each other. In other words, the marriage is still too fresh for the lady to have started living her unhappily ever after.

“Why is she still with him?” I asked my friend. “Does she depend on him in any way?”

“She recently took a loan to buy him a car,” my friend answered.

“So she’s financially independent. She can walk away now when it’s still early,” I replied.

“She loves him terribly. She doesn’t feel like she could live without him.”

I pitied the lady. She’s madly in love with a guy who doesn’t even seem to remember she exists. “That’s one-sided love,” I said. “At some point that marriage is bound to fail. Problem is, when that separation happens, it’s going to leave a very bitter and scarred woman in its wake. If that woman knew half of my mom’s story, or even the life my sisters and I have lived, she would take to her heels.”

Blogaversary: alygeorges (memoirs of aly) turns four!

It’s that time of the year again. Drum roll please…alygeorges: memoirs of aly (the way I see it) turns four today. The blogaversary had totally escaped my mind. I was just looking at my phone earlier and I was wondering what’s special about today because deep down I felt there was something about the date. Then bam! It hit me. It’s my blog’s anniversary. Not just the first, second, or third…but the fourth.

I’m cognisant of the fact that four rounded to the nearest ten would be zilch…but looking at my glass as half-full, those total up to forty eight months. I’m beside myself with joy. I feel this is a huge milestone, especially when I take into consideration all the challenges I’ve been going through, that even publishing one post a month feels like a herculean task sometimes.

Ninety percent of the time I’m swamped with schoolwork so getting time to blog has been very difficult. However, what I find really amazing, and what keeps me going strong, is the simple thought that even as I struggle, there are people who make time to read the few posts I manage to publish.

Today as I celebrate my blog’s anniversary, I’m celebrating all those who have travelled with me on my blogging journey this far. I cherish you all guys. Thank you for the likes, comments and the thousands of views. I just can’t thank you enough. I’ve said this before, and I’ll keep reiterating; without you my blog wouldn’t be turning four. So differently phrased, WE are turning four today!

I send you many warm hugs. Happy blogging! 🙂

Forgiving is relatively easy…

Forgive and forget; that’s what we’re usually advised to do when we’ve fallen out with someone, right? Well here’s my unsolicited verdict: forgiving is relatively easy. Forgetting? Not so much. I can remember numerous instances from close to two decades ago where I got into a heated altercation with someone, exchanged a few blows here and there (as a child I had violent tendencies)… Point is, I forgave and forgot, moved on even, but I still remember what went down then.

So that makes me wonder, does it mean I don’t abide by the general rule? To forgive and forget? My priest in church sought to shed some light on the confusing issue. Basically, we forgive but in most cases we don’t forget. As human beings we’re programmed to remember things, unlike fish for instance, which can only remember things for an estimated five months.

What happens is, we don’t forget; at least not that much. What matters is how we relate with people who’ve offended us and who we purport to have forgiven. If we’re unable to talk with them, then that means we haven’t forgiven them yet. If we keep bringing up the same issue every time we disagree on something, then that means we’re still holding a grudge against them.

Simply put, when one has forgiven another for something wrong they did, that particular issue becomes a closed file. If ever it comes up in future discussions, it shouldn’t be an emotive matter that makes the concerned parties seem like ticking time bombs waiting to go off.

From my own understanding, it’s the intention to consider that person forgiven that matters. For instance, a guy cheats on his girlfriend with her best friend. The way I see it, in such situations, it takes utmost strength for the lady to forgive the promiscuous boyfriend (or vice versa) and the perfidious friend. But as we know it, some actually forgive. It’s almost impossible to forget the pain, but as the old adage goes, ‘where there’s a will there’s a way’.

In reality, it would be impossible for someone who’s been hurt that much to forget the pain they felt. In this case, forgetting would be for one not to act on that pain and the anger. It’s not an easy thing, but that’s the best thing if one wants to have a healthy future; one that’s not marred by grudges.

Burning bridges – Part 2

When dad suggested he was going to bring his mom home, we all voiced our disapproval. For starters, she has never acknowledged us as her grandchildren. The last time she passed by for less than hour, in the company of her three other children, things got ugly when she started attacking mom, treating her like an outsider. She threatened to take her son away, from mom…

We couldn’t fathom living with her under the same room indefinitely.

If God-forbid she came down with a cold or something, especially now that her health is frail, we could be accused of poisoning her or something. So to be on the safe side, we’re all avoiding the responsibility of taking care of her. God knows we’d really want to, even if for humanity’s sake, but that would most likely be to our detriment.

Now would even be the worst time to bring her to live with us since we all leave in the morning and come back home in the evening and as we’re in a financially tight situation, we can’t afford to seek the services of a private nurse. That means she would never have anyone to take care of her and that could earn us her eternal wrath. I doubt anyone in their right mind would want that.

Ironically, when my maternal grandma was alive, we were the ones begging her to let us take care of her. We had a tight relationship with her and because she was naturally kind-hearted, we didn’t have to fake anything with her. Whatever problems we faced in her presence, we knew she wouldn’t judge us; she wouldn’t resent us. We went to her for guidance and she was only too eager to give it.

When mom and dad fought, she never took sides. She would admonish whoever of the two was at fault. That’s something dad’s mom has been incapable of for ages. Where her children are concerned, she effortlessly takes their side. And that explains the wanting relationship she has with her daughters-in-law. According to her, they have always been the enemies.

The one daughter-in-law who at least seemed to like her a bit is the one she encouraged her son to ditch because she favoured another woman over her. So now, nature has put her in a position where she needs help, and though four generations have sprouted from her, she has had trouble finding a safe haven where she can spend her sunset years.

She called too many shots when she was strong and able, without caring whose toes she stepped on. Now those same people whose feelings she bruised are the same ones whose helps she needs. Life really has a way of shuffling things around. Problem is, tolerance and trust don’t just bloom overnight. Worse still, where trust is absent, in its place there’s too much suspicion, which could be disastrous when it’s unrestrained, like in my family.

What I’ve learned from all these is that no man’s an island. Furthermore, even when someone feels invincible because they’re financially stable and are in good health, they shouldn’t take others for granted because no one knows how tomorrow will be. We might need to use the same bridges we burned to get to the other side of the river.

never-burn-bridges

In addition to that, sometimes it’s better for parents to let their children make their own choices, however wrong they feel those choices might be. It would be too bad if a parent and their child are separated later in life simply because the parent couldn’t respect their child’s decisions. That happens to most people, especially where there are new members being introduced into the family by virtue of marriage.

The truth of the matter is, once the child grows up and leaves the nest, their better half will in most cases have a say in the decisions they make. That therefore means that when a child chooses a partner, if they insist that’s who they want to share their life with, their parents should respect that. For everyone’s sake.

I don’t know if dad’s mom regrets her past choices, but I can almost bet she’s feeling their effect now and I find it a tremendously sad situation. From what I’ve seen in my family, that simple act of parents not meddling in their children’s relationships could save generations tonnes of rancour. It could also spare aging parents the misery of having to spend those final days in utter solitude because they burned all bridges and therefore have no one to turn to when they’re too old to take care of themselves.

All we have to keep reminding ourselves is that tomorrow might be a very different day from today and the people we seem to despise or take for granted are the same ones we’ll be running to for help. That’s just how life is. Sod’s law of some sought.

Burning bridges – Part 1

burning-bridges

Life as we know it, is a curve. A baby is born, s/he matures and ages, then ultimately dies. At least that’s the normal curve, even though not everyone gets to go through all the stages. Now, as any keen person may have realised, person(s) on either side of the curve seem to be in the same state technically. The only notable difference would be the difference in age and the obvious physical characteristics accompanying each.

What I find interesting is that persons on either side of the curve appear to be in a similar stage. For instance, when a baby is young, they require assistance taking a bath, moving from place to place, they need to be fed…etc. and so does an old person. Interesting, ain’t it?

My paternal great grandmother passed on two years ago and albeit no one knew her exact age, she’s rumoured to have been over a century old. Now if that’s not a blessing, I don’t know what is; in my humble opinion at least.

I was lucky to see her a couple of months before she passed on and when I did, I had trouble reconciling the version of her seated in front of me, with the version of her I knew when I was a child. Unlike her relatively younger self, she couldn’t move on her own and therefore had to be wheeled around in a wheelchair. She seemed so fragile; and obviously because she had lost all her teeth, there was a variety of foods she couldn’t eat. Just like it is with infants.

The reason I find this human curve interesting is because, once a child is born, they rely on their parents/guardians to get through life; then the child matures, they become independent and at some point they get families of their own and as it is with life, they continue aging. Now the interesting part is that when they do, the independence they once enjoyed when they were lithe fades away with age so they start relying on their children to perform, even the most basic of tasks.

Another difference is that unlike babies, who can’t chose who takes care of them, elderly people have that discretion of choosing. This they determine by the relations they have; how they treat their children and those close to them during their younger years.

One thing I keep reminding myself as life goes on is that life is too short to learn everything, so a wise person will learn from other people’s experiences, without necessarily waiting to learn from their own. Sometimes, when we’re in our prime, we delude ourselves into thinking that we can survive without help from others. But as some of us may have learned first-hand, in this business of aging, life knows no status quo.

A few years ago, dad was just going on and on with his drunken rumblings. He said my sisters and I could go get married and that he didn’t need any of us. He had his money and would therefore never require our assistance. I shook my head, concerned that he was being too myopic; he could barely see what was right in front of his own two eyes.

At the time, his grandmother was already in that stage where she was too old to take care of herself. The rest of his family had trouble deciding who was going to take care of her as she had too many ‘special needs’. I only told mom to remind him later that sometimes there comes a time, when parents rely on their own children to feed and bathe them. As it is though, dad is as obstinate as they come. Most often than not, I feel he’s one of those people who wait to learn from their own experiences.

Currently as we speak, his own mother, whom I’ve mentioned (not in very good light) in some previous posts is now aging and needs someone to take care of her. Dad and his three siblings have had trouble lately, deciding who would take her in.

See thing is, in her halcyon days, she burned many bridges; just like most of us do when we feel our lives couldn’t be better so we don’t need others to get by. She was practically the one calling the shots in her children’s lives; who they should marry, how they should treat them… the ones from humble backgrounds like my mom were only acquainted with the callous side of her.

She got to decide if her children married well, and this was always on the basis of monetary wealth; good virtues didn’t matter to her. Where she felt they could do better, she incited them, hoping to break them apart. With my parents for instance, she tried and failed miserably so we’ve -in most cases- been treated like pariahs.

Now as it turns out, her only daughter, who never married (because she didn’t want her marrying a poor lad) is not in a state to help her (financially speaking); her sons on the other hand, didn’t marry the wives she wanted so they (she and her daughters-in-law) don’t get along too well and as nit-picking is seemingly one of her fortes, no one wants to be in a situation where they are blamed for ‘maltreating’ her.

This is because they never forged a healthy relationship that’s characterised by trust and tolerance when they should have, so they are naturally weary of each other. It therefore goes without saying that any unintentional slip-up on their (daughters-in-law) side, might be construed as a deliberate attempt at making her life miserable.