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The grieving woman

by Ifunanya
The Grieving woman

Hi guys, I hope you guys are doing well? As for me I am presently stuck in now traffic and trying to take my own advice on productivity.  

This story-ish writing that you are about to read is based solely on the above image. I don’t know the origin of the photo but it struck me the first time I saw it.  Basically, I saw the photo and I tried to create a scenario in my head.

So, I hope you enjoy….xxx


The story.

Loss is never easy, this is something we all know. We feel the hurt and the pain and empathize with our neighbors when they are in mourning.
But nothing quite prepares you for the sudden death of someone close to you.


It is not that you didn’t sincerely care for your friend when she lost her husband. You felt her pain, the tears you shed were real. You felt it.

But to wake up and find that the child you made supper for last night, the child you just bought a new pair of shoes for, the child that was alive and vibrant, bursting at the seams with life is no more. Because someone somewhere decides to get behind the wheel of a car after a couple drinks.

What that does to you can’t be quantified. It empties you. The rug has been pulled from under your are in free fall

And have no will to fly.

The grieving woman

Look at my beautiful son, still as peaceful as ever. His hands have gone cold and I am unable to keep him warm.
They won’t let me cradle my boy, I know he looks peaceful but he yearns for my warmth. He always did.

In those cold nights, he would creep into my room and lie in between my husband and I. Ever so gentle, I never knew when he came in, till I felt his soft young body against mine. He was always that way, light as a feather. Never wanting to ruffle even the ground beneath his feet.
And they don’t want me to go to him.

Look how quiet he is, he no longer hums the tunes of his favorite songs.
My son who would fill the house with his beautiful voice.
Of all the joys I have felt, little compares to his sweet voice gently nudging me awake in the early mornings. He loved to sing but he especially loved to hum.
Now my mornings are bland, the deafening silence and empty noise that pulls me up in the mornings and threatens to engulf me.
And they don’t want me to go to him.

Look at what I have done. I sent my boy off to his death. If only I was not desperate for a new can of milk.
If only I was in less of a hurry that morning, I would have remembered that I would be needing a new can of milk.
But I was in a hurry, you see the best time for fish traders like myself is early morning. So I dashed out before the sun and came home as the sun was starting to get bold.
When a child that barely eats cries for some food you have to give him some. And how he loved his milk.
But I had forgotten to get some and I sent him to his death. Who will I feed? What do I do with all this time?
I must go to him.

The End…

I hope you guys enjoyed this post, brought to you by Lagos Traffic….xxx


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Heather Rowland September 30, 2017 - 3:20 pm

This is such a beautifully emotional post – I love your style of writing so much. Stunning interpretation of this heartbreaking photo.

Heather xx

Ifunanya September 30, 2017 - 9:29 pm

Thank you so much for the kind words Heather. I’m glad you like it…xxx

RASHMI SHARMA October 2, 2017 - 1:47 pm

This is such an emotional post dear… very heart touching…. thx for sharing…. 🙂
Beauty and fashion

Ifunanya October 5, 2017 - 2:36 pm

Thank you! I’m glad you liked it…xxx

Cynthia October 7, 2017 - 9:31 am

This is really amazing…..may her son’s soul rest in peace


tamara October 28, 2017 - 11:23 pm

so much emotion in every line so many visible imagination of every word written. I could literally fell my blood rush faster than normal.😘😘😘


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