Moth Memories

I swear to God, there is a GIGANTIC moth fluttering around my apartment in suburban Nairobi this evening.

Does that plaintive refrain sound familiar??? It should, if you've been following my madcap adventures on this blog. If you'll recall, I ended last year battling a behe-MOTH in Gulu, a flying scourge the size of a hummingbird that was hypnotized by the light from my laptop as I cowered under my mosquito netting one late night in the cozy little cottage on Samuel Doe Road. I kicked and flailed and cursed the mutant freak a myriad times before it finally disappeared. I think it sensed I was teetering on the brink of emotional collapse and decided to give me a break.

Then a few days later, just after New Year's, I started to feel guilty. I realized the word "moth" is the beginning of the word "mother," and perhaps that moth was a sign from my deceased mother Eloise, and my big sis Julie, who had died just a few months earlier.....on October 19th, 2007.

Lately, I've started to think about what was unfolding last year around this time. It's about when I learned the end was near for Julie, and began frantically trying to arrange a trip back to Cairo, Illinois, to be with her. I tried to make myself believe I would be helping her survive yet another dire health challenge. But deep down, I sensed I'd be helping her take her last journey.

I'm starting to have flashbacks about those final weeks and days and moments. It's hard, it really is. Today is Sept. 19th--exactly 11 months since Julie died, at exactly around this time of evening.

But just when it would have been soooooooooo easy to let down my guard, fling open the floodgates and let 'er rip with some gullywashing sobs.....all of a sudden, this big-ass moth flies through my open window at the Liza(rd) Apartments.

I think Julie is telling me that if I can survive Gulu, I can survive anything. I'm thinking she's reminding me that she's still with me. I'm thinking Julie's reminding me that real love never dies.

I'm thinking I'm gonna be okay.