In the night of Tuesday I received your note, it was a night deep without singing birds, I had bowed to night breeze sting staring at the evening stars, muttering to self when in sudden it fell in the doorway, it was tattered, I mean your note and I had concluded it was, perhaps the consequence of its long journey, so mine may in shreds be as well when it reaches you. Your letter like the morning star gave beauty and it is to it I write.
I read about the darkness of your dreams, your nightmares, and your deep desire to escape again into reality, I read of the sands streaming through your nostrils and how the clouds stone you with rain, I read also of the sun sucking your blood and wiping your tears, I read of the maggot your beautiful face now give, I read of your strangeness, loneliness and your lost of comfort and the waves that drift you towards eternity. In your letter, I later read of your regret, of your sorrow, of the love you must carry now as a burden because of your refusal to give, to share when you were here, I later read it and it sunk me.
I read of your wishes and all riches you had when we lived in meager, I read of your gowns, your jewelries, shoes, the ones you bought, kept and wore only indoors, I read it all and it sucked my veins, piercing it. In your letter I saw tears, yours and learnt about forgiving, I held the part where you wrote that the one who refuses to forgive bears the burden, I read it again and again and even before your grave.
Your daughter Iyetade is now five years old, she has your beautiful eyes and she is quite soft, soft like you. Whenever I see her, I see you and with her around I am getting past your absence, though your warmth is only yours, since your demise, the seed you dropped in the earth has grown into a beautiful young tree with fruits and blooming flowers.
And yes the church is doing well, we all thought you were indispensable but the church has found your replacement like your work, it thrives without you. Yeah for a while, it was a blow they seem never to recover from but God and his alternatives, the preacher man always say we never had a better choir.
That morning like usual, you didn’t even kiss your daughter goodbye, you left without food, you left for your job before sun rise, that was what you couldn’t do without, you could do without other things, food, sleep and that caused pain, it took our joy, our fun and yes you were always tired, busy to have sex, and finally you did without us, your family. Your job of course didn’t suffer as we did' absent you, they quickly let your key position out and in moments they found replacement, they didn’t even a day break for you, and today they have as well grown. Yes you gave all and all you wanted for us was a better tomorrow, one of pleasure and comfort but the tomorrow has passed and you were absent and from you have I learnt to enjoy each moment.
All your awards, certificate lay dusty untouched, I have left them where you kept them, the store. I will carry on as you wish and get myself a new wife, I will sweetheart and though you were my life, the half of my heart, I think time will heal all and I miss you, I see you in my dreams and memories brings me comfort.
On an end note, your car, the one valued so much, that beetle has lost worth. Even our gate man now has one, the type. You remember you preferred to walk than let road dust on it, yes the road is still dusty and even now the car is not road worthy.
My beloved, I wish you on your journey light to guide way, I wish I were by your side and though I know the road to follow, the path to be with you but I must stay and live with your shadows and heal the wound, the scar. It is your wish and our daughters wish, you must journey alone on this path, I visit your mother sometimes and she is well and alive and our lives has gone on.
From Me Your Husband,
Riv-en by Death
The Sun Will Not Cease To Set
The Stars Will Still the Sky Lit
And the breeze will wind
Absence Your Existence
Live and Don’t Die Before Your Death