Tag: compassion

Daddio

I had a little thought and I risked waking my husband up just to scribble it down.

“what’s going on” he says when I turn on the lights in the bedroom at 11:34pm, just twenty six minutes to midnight, I should be asleep… It is Monday in the morning after all…another new week for the hustle and bustle.

…but I sit up and I’m writing this.

Earlier in the day I had a conversation with my cousin. She wanted to know if she should see the movie I had just put up on my WhatsApp story.

Her exact words were “Is it a must watch?”

I’m going to say exactly what I told her:

“It Depends…I loved the chemistry between the characters…it wasn’t romantic but they clicked.
The conversation is top notch.
The expressions are on another level…they take you deep into their thoughts with them.
It’s just the two of them…
…No one else…
1 hour and 39 minutes.
Sean Penn and Dakota Johnson.
I love it”.

We talk a bit more and she wants to know:

“Do I need a drink for it?
Do the girls need to be sleeping to concentrate?”

She’s got two girls under ten years of age.

I tell her “You don’t necessarily need a drink… but it’s not a bad idea…and yeah, you need full focus…no distraction….some of the stuff they talk about may get you thinking about some of your own stuff and decisions”.

It sure got me thinking about my relationship with my dad…and a few other stuff…

This is more or less a review of the movie Daddio.

I’m a lover of movies with conversations…so you bet I love this one. It’s a beautifully written script.

It left me with a lot of questions though, and no answers …I guess we can’t always have the answers to our questions… life’s questions.

Knowing me, knowing you

A couple of days ago I had a conversation with my older sister and at some point in that conversation, I tried to say a few things to her and in the process I got misunderstood somehow. Trying to explain my point left me a bit distraught and then of course teary. The more I opened my mouth to speak, the more I teared up. I need to add, that isn’t unusual at all. That is typical Mimi.

Now, the issue was that my sister became shocked and might I say, upset. She told me she didn’t expect tears and she was beyond shocked, as our conversation didn’t warrant any tears.

I’ve spent almost forty eight hours thinking about this. I have wondered how she never knew this about me. Then it hit me, we have never had a conversation where my emotions were spread out on the table. I realized that when I am with her, I always try to be a strong pillar for her, hiding any issues or problems, if I had them. I have always felt she didn’t need to add my own worries to hers.

My mind began to wander, wondering how many people really knew the people around them or what they were capable or incapable of, what they like or don’t like, what scares them and what makes them happy.

Do people know that I can’t bear to watch a traumatic news item or movie? Haunts me for days. Do they know that a romcom book or movie can completely reset a bad day for me? Do they know that I love it when people are happy and it breaks my heart when I see someone hurting?Does anyone know that I bother myself about the most trivial issues? worrying that I’ve upset someone about this or that? Do they know, that at the slightest sign of conflict, my heart begins to beat faster that usual?I guess not…

My question is, are we to tell people about ourselves and make them aware of who we are or do they get to find out as we get to know each other and as the bond thickens?

If we don’t let them know, we can’t blame them when they appear not to know. Right?

Jesse

That smile…

I couldn’t seem to get it out of my mind. It haunted me and made me want to reach out to him.

That smile was one of the most beautiful things I had seen in a while. It revealed so much and negated much more.

I had wondered what happened to him…and his sister too.

I remember them from many years back… the shuffles and chitchatting from their morning routines…the beautiful voices that sang praises to God in the morning. They used to be sweet kids… There was just a wall in between our backyards.

Somewhere along the line, I heard their mum left… No one knew why.

Two sweet kids, left alone with daddy. I have no idea what kind of daddy he was…

…but not too long, they weren’t kids anymore… gradually…the world kind of lured them. To what? I don’t know…just mere hearsays…

What do I know? They wouldn’t look up anymore when they walked past me or anyone…not even a hello…maybe one hello in ten passings…

what was the point in saying hello anyway, everyone thought they were bad kids… presumably in bad company and on some substances too.

I guess I joined the rest… I don’t know. I never said a word to them…these kids I once knew. I took my few hellos they gave and walked on by.

Not until today…Today I got a hello and I asked how he was…and then I asked;  “Your name is Jesse…am I right?” He nodded and paused, then I added “…and your sister is Sharon… I hear you call out to each other all the time”.

That’s when he let it out, that smile…all teeth and crinkles around his eyes. It said so much.

Maybe I’m going to say a little more to him and not just say hello. He needs to know he’s got at least one person who hasn’t written him off.

Modified and narrated for Msugh Iyange Yakubu (my sister) from her true life experience