A Christmas Funeral

I had to cry on the inside, As aunty laid spread on the Kitchen floor weeping. She somewhat gathered herself and stood sobbing, “They shot him” were words that escaped her lips And she repeated these words like a lullaby Calming herself to Tranquil like state But she still wore disbelieve on her face, we all did. For she had lost her husband and I had lost my uncle I had to forget For a little while I pretend he was alive and well, I could at least find some kind of solace in being oblivious. Self-inflicted amnesia was like a drug, with each dose my mind grew tolerant Until my mind finally withdrew from Pretend And reality came like waves swoosh all I had built All these boundaries intended to protect and shield Against the brutal realisation that I lost you for Christmas. His Mother shed no tears Grand ’ma wore black, a strong face and Stared at walls. She often did this in times of loss, but this time things were different One could see through her silence, her eyes heavy As the eyes always told when carrying a heart’s weight, What could she do? , as being strong was almost entirely her nature. I always hated and admired this about her, Her ability swallow her pain and shoulder the world on her back. It was a dull Christmas I woke to the scent of paraffin and fire wood And women cooking outside sang sad songs Followed by baritone voices conversing in the background. Christmas jingles were replaced church hymns And the gift of family remained present. His absence was deeply missed, as it saddened our hearts For in this Christmas funeral , we came together.