Uwakokunre's birthday was last wednesday, March 16th. Though the day started off kind of rough, it turned out to be a good day.
I planned a small get together with the family to celebrate the day she would be 10 years old. But like many of my "unofficial" gatherings, this turned out to be quite the shindig. My aunts and grandmother came. My sister and her boyfriend, who I didn't expect to show cause they had plans of their own, joined us. Even one of my younger sisters' mother stopped by.
When I first decided to celebrate KoKo's birthday, I knew I risked setting the stage for a possible cry fest. Thankfully the curtain never raised on that performance. It was all smiles and laughter just as if KoKo was there. Near the end, one of my younger sister's dropped a few tears. But I announced that I refused to let any water escape my eyes, and the moment passed and ended in smiles.
It took me a while to get myself started that morning. I had shopping and cooking to do, but I just couldn't motivate myself to do it. Though the weather was warm and sunny, and it was a beautiful day, for a good 10 minutes I actually canceled the party. Obviously I changed my mind.
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10/17/2010
The only picture I have
taken that day. |
The night before KoKo's birthday I sat on the edge of my bed thinking about how she looked when I finally walked into the hospital room after a grueling 105 minute drive from Great Adventure. I tried to prepare myself for the scene of her laying there lifeless as I rode in the passenger seat of my truck. I called the hospital about 15 times for updates as to what was going on since she was taken from home by the ambulance. After the 10th time everybody I spoke to told me the same thing. "The doctor will speak to you when you get here." I had a pretty good idea what I was in store for at the end of my journey. I continued to call for two reasons. One, to give myself something to do during the long ride, and two, I hoped I could trick one of the nurses into telling me the status of my daughter. That didn't work.
On my last call to the hospital I asked to speak to my mother who was there with KoKo. I was cruelly left on hold listening to the bustle of the emergency room while I strained to hear any conversation with the subject matter of a 9 year old, SMA or Uwakokunre Ayinde. My mother never came to the phone and after about 10 minutes on hold someone finally just hung up.
As we saw the sign to the East Orange exit off of the parkway, my heart was racing faster then it ever had in my whole life. Besides for the whimpers of my sisters sobbing in the back, the truck was silent.
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| At her checkup 10/13/2010 |
As soon as we pulled into the parking lot I jumped out the car and ran inside. The hallway from the main emergency entrance to the door the security guard directed me to, stretched out in front of me like a scene in phycological thriller. I could't feel my feet touching the floor, and my armpits where tingling with the onset of perspiration. I could feel an asthma attack coming on as I prayed over and over in my head 'please lord let my baby be alright'.
As soon as I walked through the doors where the nurses station was, the whole staff seemed to look at me as if they knew who I was there for. An asian woman asked me if I was Ayinde's mother, and by her body language I could tell what curtain my baby was behind. Everything was a blur. I think I whisked passed my uncles wife who worked at the hospital, but honestly I don't remember much of what my eyes were seeing before the sight I was most dreading.
When I pulled back the curtain the first face I looked for was my moms. I wasn't ready to see KoKo's body yet. I needed somebody to confirm what I feared before my suspicions became a reality. I thought that would make the blow less painful. But when I saw the tears streaming down my mothers cheeks, I felt like someone punched me in the stomach, and I immediately bent over in the direction of the bed where my daughters body lay. She was gone! Oh my god please no! I wasn't here!
She looked like she was only sleeping. Her hair looked as though there was still life in the strands.
The color of her skin was fair and golden, not pale and grey like I thought it would be. Her cheeks, torso and hands where still warm. Not cold and stiff like they portray on T.V.
Maybe the Dr.'s made a mistake.
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KoKo chillin' with her little brother
3 days earlier 10/14/2010
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I wanted to shake her but I was afraid if I did and she was still alive, me shaking her would kill her. I lifted up the sheet that was covering her body and saw her wrists and ankles bound with medical tape. There was an open ended tube coming out of her mouth that I knew led to her lungs. Something told me to check her teeth and I found them broken as a result of the barbaric unskilled attempt to intubate her so she could breath.
I was so angry. Angry at myself for not being there. Angry at myself for letting a nurse I didn't know well take care of her. Angry at myself for not taking her to the beach that summer. Angry at myself for for going somewhere so far away to have fun. Angry at myself for not being there....... Disappointed in myself for not being home......Mad at me for not being with her.
We as individuals know the truth that is in our own hearts and minds. Some of us try to fool ourselves into believing what we know to be true, is not true at all. We lie to ourselves so that our wrong doings don't seem as wrong as we know they are. Some are good at this and others aren't.
Some of those that aren't turn to substances, like drugs and alcohol, to forget and dull the guilt and pain that comes with knowing our true selves. Some of those that are, pray to a higher power with the belief and excuse that one must only ask for forgiveness and they are forgiven (can anybody say presumptuous?).
Then there is the question of someone committing a trespass against us. As the victim we may either forgive them or remove them from our lives.
I believe in my heart if I stayed home that day, KoKo would still be alive.
What do you do when even for a moment you can't forget, you don't believe in a God that absorbs the repercussions of your actions just because you said please, and you are the person you won't forgive?
