The Burial of My Mother

The morning of July 21, 2013, the telephone rang. This was my brother-in-law's phone, and taught me the news of my mother's death. This news is not surprising. She is diagnosed with advanced cancer in May 2013 and is expected to die. I have prepared for myself since I heard the diagnosis. After I woke up, I packed up and started to go home from a state university who took part in a business seminar with a friend. I spent three years at the state university and often brought this drive home.

I grew up in the bondage of Lagos and never explored out of the Southwest, but the interference between my mother's burial and the frustration of my relatives was pushed by money and my fast paced in the southwest Brought, people, the ambitious world of Ibus. I am one of Ibo's children, and the understanding of their hometown is full of illustrations of evil uncle, aunt and awkward lands, and those who retreated their hearts. It is actually my mother's funeral to understand my hometown. She took me to Annabula Eastern Nigeria. But before O'onha, there is a reunion that I want to call for a wish.

In September 1946, my mother died suddenly. My father is ready to be buried in Kauru and English in several blocks from the University of South Florida. On the eve of her funeral, she said rosary for my mother. When the Jesuits began to appear in the Rosary, I was completely surprised. Most of them do not even know that I know that my mother is dead. My guess is that there are over 60 Jesuits saying prayer to my mother. Many Jesuits know little about me. I will never forget the spiritual support they gave to my father and me.

When I looked at the body of my father, the cheek blushing my mother was filled with tears, and the story of a therapist who asked me whether I should contact the funeral doctor for burial was only half heard. This is the only time I have never seen her natural perfection. But death is a way to get rid of all the masks we wear for others and to reveal the following. Unless I have my husband, I will never understand the pain.