This morning is a different one from all other mornings I’ve had for the past years. I woke up missing my Mother. I crave so much to hear her voice and I wish I could talk to her in her crypt. I want to talk to her so badly. I miss her dearly. There has been no day pass by without one thought about her or the other, but this morning, I sincerely want to talk to her. Like for real. So, I’m picking up my pen and paper, and I’m writing her.

“Hello, Maami.” I wrote in fantasies.

“mi-mi,” She spoke in my head.

“How are you doing this morning?” We chorused at the same time.

“I’m fine, Maami.” I replied with a smile.

She replied likewise almost at the same time. Silence filled my room for a minute. I thought of how much I had missed her. I shook my head and decided to continue the fantasized dream.

“How’s home, Maami?” (She had always been the home keeper. The peace, love, sweetness, grace and all the good tidings of the house had always been about her. Her alone.)

She was quiet. Cold chills reverberated through my body. I stood to put my ceiling fan off, while wondering why she refused to answer my last question. Grieve-filled, I continued the invincible conversation. “What did you have for dinner last night, Maami?”

As if I knew she wasn’t going to answer me, I feel so sad. I want to stop the casual talk, but I can’t. It’s too obvious I didn’t know how much I’ve missed her until this moment. I asked the next couple of questions with tears-filled eyeballs.

“Where are you, Maami?”

“When will I see you again?”

“I hope you still look just as beautiful.”

“Please talk to me, Maami. Please!”

“I need to talk to you, please, say something!”

“Just say something, Maami. Anything at all!” I cried out of my dreams.

I can feel tears all over my face. She was the real source of my life; she’d always been. The moment she went silent; I had thought I would die without her. She was too dear, too beautiful a mother to be lost just like that. Her scent passed through the smell-receptors of my nose again, and it seemed as if she was right there with me; lying gently beside me, drawing me closer to her bosom for warmth necessary for the present cold.

Her sense of love radiated through my brain again. She is the most lovable person I have ever seen. Her knack of total completeness swept me off. She was just too perfect a woman; too perfect a mother.

She laid on a sick bed for approximately 2 months before resting from all the works of her lifetime. I had never thought she’d die and so, the last time I was with her, I had left her with a recent life gist with a kiss and a hug, and had continued my life as a life-liver.

The next time I saw her, I held on to her, and I was quite surprised I was not held back just as tightly as she had always done. Hot tears rolled down my bony cheeks. I couldn’t stop crying. I’ve never cried like that before; not in front of almost the whole world. My tearing was shameless. They dropped like boiled rainwater from the skies. It then seemed like it will never stop but now my heart weeps everyday to her ever beautiful memories.

It’s been four years since her departure and here I am, talking to her as though she was here with me. I had thought I will find my life after her demise. Believe me, she had always been part of my everyday life ever since. There is not a day without her in it, one way or another. She is too good to be forgotten, especially when no one is fit to take up her place.

As I drifted into a sleep I virtually wanted to lead me into eternity where I could see and talk to her again, I said one last word.

Maami, I miss you.

Mikaiah Sunday Oyepintemi
Mikaiah Sunday Oyepintemi also known as One Micaiah is a Medical Laboratory Science graduate of the College of Medicine of the University of Lagos, a writer of poems and short stories and a lover of life. He is a believer of love and true friendship. Writing, to him, is the only way he can speak without talking. He hopes to write and publish as many books as he can, while alive. He looks forward to meeting new friends too. Please follow him on Twitter