A reflection in an hour glass




They say it takes two to tango, but there are men who are built to be the contrary of all the laws of life. Daddy always said there are only two rules in love and therefore unto me he said “baby, don’t kiss and tell,” but unto my momma he always said “I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say ‘I love you’.” As he kissed her on the forehead. I was not born into a family of the very affluent but as days went by and by, daddy always brought something to the table for breakfast. He provided us a house by the beach and every Sunday in summer he would take momma and I to the beach where I would wear my yellow khaki shorts and topple over the sand as we built sand castles. Momma was always quiet yet sophisticated and more often than not she would take long walks by the sea shore and suddenly she would disappear.

I always felt like my parents needed to clear up the air in between them; something like there needed to be good vibes. I could not help but notice the long walks mommy took, her sudden interest in yoga,
(What’s with women and bending) and the very disturbing of all, my folks never gave me a plus one.
My father just like any other man, found glory in the eleventh hour, the hour when strippers were more energetic to offer lap dances, the hour when the beers were more chilly, an hour of no vindication, a moment of the hour glass. No chills, just Lemonade. Time and tide awaits no man and this was definitely my father’s happy hour. He was always on time for the eleventh hour; he would drop me early for school and many a times when my teacher would walk me home because daddy was probably doing his eleventh beer courtesy of the mixologist.
Time passed by, momma and papa enrolled me for grade four at Rosewood Royal School, a missionary school funded by LeonardoDavinci Foundation and two years down the line momma died of diabetes. I remember like it was yesterday, when Aunty Gabby picked me from school and took me for ice cream at McDonald’s.
“Hy sweetie mum went to heaven today. ”
” Will she come back with the angels? ”
” No sweetie she is not coming back, but she will send the angels”
“Finish your ice cream we need to go home” Aunty was very distraught and with time she was drink in her ice cream.
Papa took me by momma ‘ s grave on every anniversary, we would buy her calla lilies and her favourite white chocolate. Just like an hour glass, papa turned on a new life, he didnt frequent the cluss and the Inns nonetheless, he didn’t cling to the haunted eleventh hour, he was always beside himself.

Time was always of the essense between papa and I, we took long walks by the forest during Fall, took delight in the sun set as we sat by the porch and the best part of it was daddy saw me through till i graduated campus and got married, he took price in the woman i had become. In deed he was my very first love.
It is inevitable to say that time has a beautiful way of revealing who we should hold dearly and who we should hold at arms length. Time flies, always at my back i hear time’s winged chariot hurrying near.
Even after papa died, i frequent his house just to stare at my reflection in his hour glass. All that i am and all that i hope to be, i owe it to my Father.
Happy Father’s day papa.
R. I. P

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We shall all live. We pray for life, children, a good harvest and happiness. You will have what is good for you and I will have what is good for me. Let the kite perch and let the eagle perch too. If one says no to the other, let his wing break.