If you know me, you know I’m a music buff. Music is always
my answer. If you know me a little bit better, you know that when I care about
someone or something, it’s with my whole heart. If you know me from Tanzania,
you know that I love and care so much that I don’t know how to handle it
sometimes. My black and white personality gets the best of me sometimes and I am
constantly reminded that I have no gray area. When I love, I love. When I hate,
I hate.
On Thursday I got some intense news from the US and I had to
let loose that night with my friends at my favorite bar here to de-stress a little
bit. That little bit turned into a lotta bit just in time for one of the worst days. I woke up Friday morning to my phone buzzing and I somehow
managed to turn over and check it. “Mama Remy died.” Now, I’m not going to
backtrack into our issues with Mama Remy, but there were issues that leave me
feeling so conflicted about her death. Part of me is so enraged, part of me is utterly
heartbroken, and part of me is relieved.
Mama Remy was sick and her alcoholism made her make very
poor decisions. With her passing, she isn’t risking the health and safety of
anyone else again, but her sober smile and laugh won’t be present outside Hill
Crest anymore. When she was sober she was a lovely person with an infectious
laugh; kind, warm, appreciative and loving. It’s hard to lose that presence
despite her very poor decisions which stemmed from illness and desperation that
none of us could even begin to imagine. The part of me that is sad still can’t
believe that she won’t be around Hill Crest. It’s her poor decisions, despite
the circumstances, that bring on the feeling of relief. She won’t be able to
cause anyone else any pain or damage. She won’t bring another life into this
world that she can’t support. She won’t come drunk, spitting, throwing curses
and fighting into Hill Crest or the neighborhood anymore…but the enraged part
wanted her to live the repercussions of her poor decisions. I guess it’s like a
criminal at home getting the death sentence and us seeing it as an easy way out
for them – they deserve life in prison, constantly thinking about what they’d
done to put them there. I am so sad to lose Mama Remy, so relieved, and so mad.
I guess I’m experiencing my gray area.
The whole way to school on Friday morning I couldn’t stop
hitting my steering wheel and cursing. When her body was being taken out of the
house and put in the truck, I was so sad we wouldn’t see her smile again.
Leaving school, I was so glad she wouldn’t be able to cause any more pain. Remy
is safe and at peace with his mother’s death which is the most important thing.
Ujamaa Children’s Home has taken such good care of him since he moved in there
and his future is brighter than ever. When I was speaking to the owner of the
home, she said “we’ve almost done our job too well.” That’s the best thing.
That is what makes my heart full and has me at peace deep down beneath all the
gray.
I’ve had ‘Don’t Swallow The Cap’ by The National on repeat
since Friday. I don’t know how to articulate what I feel about the lyrics and
how they resonate with me and this situation, but if you feel so inclined to listen
to it, maybe you will understand, maybe not. Maybe that’s something for a future blog post.
