Morgue Chronicles

I was at the Morgue today; 5 minutes ago to be precise. Today’s trip was different though. I wasn’t going to the cafeteria to buy food neither was I there looking for a nice spot to go pray. All I’d wanted was a nice solitary bench where I could sit alone in silence. Well not exactly in silence because my earphones was busy pumping music into my eardrums and I wasn’t alone since God was right there the entire time.

I found a bench right behind a Bus parked and close enough to the river. I must admit, the whole time I was there I kept fearing the bench would topple over and I’d end up in that river that looked more like a flowing sewage (yup, cleaning up this river in the Capital City doesn’t seem like a priority for our government). I was relieved that the bus hid me properly, I needed that privacy when the tears returned.

I sat there desperately looking for distraction but social media offered all but the social bit today. So I was forced to deal with whatever brought me there.

I looked around and it dawned on me that those people at the Lobby or hanging around cars as they waited for the bodies of their loved ones to be released, would be us people pretty soon. Suddenly their pain resonated with my pain. Yes we all experience grief in varying degrees but there it dawned on me that pain in whatever form should not be belittled. Someone else’s pain might be greater than yours; understandably so, but don’t let that keep you from mourning.

In no time the tears followed. It’s been hard holding them back today. Of course I have enough questions but I leave those ones for his family to ask; God already has enough of those coming from them and I will not disturb him with more.

There were birds around I suspect, I am sure I heard them at one point or the other when they weren’t muffled by the sounds of cars passing by and the flowing sewage… I mean river, below. I did not hear mourners at the Morgue wailing; no silence reigned today. Not because they weren’t in pain, but today, their pain was borne silently within but it shouted at those of us outside. Their silent pain was too loud to ignore.

In this morgue a variety of people meet- those doing their work hired inside, those taking care of the security outside, those running their cafeteria business, those who came looking for what the cafeteria offered; but the lot that stands out the most: those who have come to begin their final goodbye.

The one thing you won’t fail to pick from here, is how fleeting life is. Life is fragile and has no guarantees.

There were 3 sick people that were the cause of my anxiety yesterday; one is no more today.


Tears For Breakfast

Table is set

Heavy thoughts line it up well,

Despair provides a lovely cover.

The appetizer first

Pretty pink and white pill,

More thoughts to wash it down.

Frustration, heartache, despondence

Make a balanced diet.

Pop out those flavours

A dash of salt will do

Yes, salt in fluid form.

Drown that with music

As you nibble on tea and bread.

But that’s just the cover up

In reality it is evident

Tears were your breakfast.

When Pain Seems Unbearable

Pain is no joke! And I know that because as I write this I feel like a wreck. The tears won’t stop flowing, my heart feels shattered, I’m sobbing and the pain is unbearable.

Music is playing in the background and all the words I hear are supposed to be greatly comforting but I’m not sure I want comfort now; I just want to cry till I run out of tears; till I’m exhausted and fall asleep.

During painful times, people try to comfort us with words saying how things will get better or how it’s not as bad as it seems when we compare it with what others are going through… but the truth is, in the midst of pain and a future that seems bleak, encouragement feels surreal because hope is an abstract concept at that point.. and yes, my situation isn’t half as bad as someone else’s but pain is still pain. I’d love to trivialize what I’m feeling when I think of what others go through but that wouldn’t take away my pain. I just want to cry it out without feeling guilty because it’s small in comparison to other’s.

The past year has been crazy and I’ve never been through anything like this. Somehow every time I felt like I’d reached the very end, God would somehow get me past that. When my strength ran out and I had no grace for even an extra day, somehow He’d get me through an extra month, then a second one and now it’s over a year.

God puts in us some capacity to handle pain, that is far beyond what we’d imagine. We may get stretched until we feel like it’s past our limits but it probably is nowhere near what we can handle.

Right now I have a feeling God may still be stretching me but I’m terrified because I am at the end of my rope. I may not want further building of my capacity; I just want to laugh again and to see brighter days… but if God needs me to hold on a little longer, I’ll simply comply because He knows my true potential.

Things might seem unbearable but I guess we’ll never truly know how much we can bear until we’re forced to bear more than we can handle.