The Eagle's Flight At Dawn!!!

The first light of dawn holds a very special meaning for me... Always. It isn't just the arrival of a new day—It is when the sun stretches its golden fingers across the sky, bearing with it many whispers from the past, whispers wrapped in golden hues and cool morning mist.

I remember one of the dawns I watched with Grandma, it was the morning I left for secondary school, leaving behind the village, the sunsets, and the life I had known. I was only twelve, but the weight of that departure felt heavier than I could carry.

Grandma stood beside me, her face shadowed in the dim light, yet her eyes glowed with quiet sorrow. I was her "Nne" (mother) and we had lived together for five years, I knew letting me go was one of the most bitter pills she had had to swallow, but.......;

"I want you to go to "suku" (school) to acquire the White man's education —acquire his wisdom, for the future, and to always stand tall, Nne," she had said, her voice barely above a whisper, but firm, like the roots of the ancient trees around us. "The world will try to bend you, but you must not break. Many dawns, you will see, but never forget where your sun rises from... Go and make me proud."

I didn’t cry—not in front of her. I only clenched my fists, held my breath, and swallowed the lump in my throat. But as Dad's car pulled away, I stole one last glance at the village. The sun had fully risen now, bathing everything in soft gold. And there she stood, robust and mighty, waving until I could no longer see her.

Then I let out a loud yell and wept profusely

Years passed. I saw many dawns in different places—city skylines, school hostels, lonely apartments. But none of them ever felt as warm, as alive, as the ones I had shared with her.

Then, one fateful morning, I received the message on the day I finished my semester exams.

Grandma was gone

I had to come down immediately because she had to be buried the next day and she had requested I be there, to pay her my last respects. Grandma forbade her children putting her in the morgue.

The world felt wrong, as if the sun had lost its warmth, as if dawn itself had betrayed me. I rushed back home, my heart pounding with memories, with regret, with love too vast to contain.

I could then understand the reason I felt all out of sorts since that morning

I never thought dawn could be so cruel

I sat frozen, staring at her lying still on her mud bed, willing the dawn to take back what it had stolen. It felt hollow, empty, merciless!

I thought of her wise counsel, her proverbial teachings, of reproofs and directions.

I immediately felt like a rudderless ship in the ocean, going wherever the tide takes me

And she left a message for me; she said;

"Nne do not let my absence darken your dawns. See me in every sunrise, in every whisper of the wind, in every golden morning that greets you. Keep living, keep living, but never forgetting."

She was 90 years old and had been staying with us from the last 2 years, against her will of course.

One morning, for the first time in a long time, the eagle could not fly, Grandma could not get up from her bed. She complained of weakness and my Dad arranged for her to visit the hospital.

"There's nothing your "dokinta" (doctor) can do for me, it's time for me to go".

"Go where? My father had asked alarmed. He didn't like the way she sounded and coerced her into going to the hospital for a check-up.

She would rest in the hospital overnight, said the doctor, Grandma didn't object.

My Dad told me he felt strange at her actions, almost as if there was no need protesting over anything anymore. She knew she was dying.

She had talked far into the night, dishing out instructions, admonitions, advice, and just as the first light of dawn seeped through the window, she sighed softly—almost like a whisper of relief—and she was gone.

Hmmmm....... I sigh!

The morning that she was buried , I was up very early, before the others and walked to the spot where we had watched many sunrises together. The sky was just beginning to tilt, blue surrendering to the first ray of light. I knelt on the dewy grass, and for the first time in years, I let myself cry, helplessly.

In the evening, as I stood by the window, watching the sky shift from deep blue to soft amber, I felt something—something I hadn’t felt since she left.

Warmth.

Then I remembered the dream I had the night prior to her death;

Once again I was Nne, Grandma's little girl, running around happily, barefoot and she was standing, her image like a candle flickering in the wind, watching and smiling, but when I reached out for her hand, in that moment she slipped quickly away, and her voice was clear as the calm sound of the evening breeze.

Keep living, never allow darkness, only light

After the burial rites , life returned to normal in the village. Why? I questioned.

The sky grew brighter, the world outside stirred, and yet my world had gone still. I wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all, at the cruelty of a new day beginning when my world had just ended.

Life has to go on but I miss you greatly!

From within.

Your laughter carried on the morning breeze, your voice in the rustling leaves, your love woven into the very fabric of my being.

I miss you Grandma!

All images are AI generated.

I am @edith-4angelseu and thank you for stopping by my neighbourhood.