Tonight I took an extra long, extra hot shower
….and depending on when I post this, that might have been a few nights ago…I’ll admit I didn’t spend my time scrubbing and buffing myself as you’d envision in a shower..I mostly just stood there and let the water hit me with the sharp heat of the tiny streams and inhaled the steam from the overheated water…Today my muscles ached and my soul was drained..2020 has not been an easy year for most, if you watch the news or social media, you’ll know we’re all struggling to maintain our sanity as tragedy after tragedy threatens to choke our mental capacity.
So I stood in the shower as I imagined myself washing off the dread of all the grim news, and I questioned what I was afraid of ..I went down my mental checklist of whether I was staying true to my life’s missions..did everyone that I loved know that I loved them, had I forgiven everyone so I don’t die with a grudge? Had I wronged anyone whom I was yet to apologize to? what regrets would I have if today was my last day?
I torture myself like every empath everytime an unexplained tragedy occurs..that’s why I try to avoid the news and politics…I soak everything in too much and I feel too deep.
As I think of my life turning around ( I wasn’t always so introspective) , I think of one of my favorite cousins, my Cuzo..( that’s Kenyan slang for cousin).

Do you have those cousins that have always gotten you ( is that a word?), the ones that understand you so well that every conversation has phrases like “I know” “totally””me too” “I knew it”…I do have one of those.

Picture me and my Cuzo, in our 20s,in college, fresh from Africa,..we were unstoppable ..and by unstoppable, I mean worked full time, college full time and weekended full time like most college kids…*insert twerk or get low*
The kind of cousin that saw my then boyfriend talking to some other girl outside a party and called me at 2am to tell me to get my ass up (🤦🏿‍♀️…I forgive you young Kwambi😂)….the kind that made sure my wig was out of my face as I puked my guts out from those nights you wish to remember but can’t(..🗣this is a judgment free zone!!)..or the one I could move in with and vice versa when rent got tight and bills piled a little too fast, no prior notice required….basically, the ride or die they don’t make anymore.
At some point, as most women get ..we became petty and swore never to speak to each other..I honestly can’t remember what we fought about and I’m sure neither can my Cuzo, but whatever it was, it was bad enough to make us sworn enemies.

Then she moved to good ol Canada and I was relieved to say the least…”good riddance” is what I told myself.
Fast forward to a few years and a friend and I went to Canada for some Caribbean festival and who do I see across the arena…my Cuzo. Granted it had been a few years since we’d seen each other and from both our looks, there was no love lost…I,of course, snubbed her but our mutual friend proceeded to talk to her against my pact with her….I was that petty🤦🏿‍♀️.

We spent the whole weekend running into each other, staring each other down but never saying a word…My friend and I came back to the states after that weekend and I hoped to never run into Cuzo again….I was prepared never to set foot in Canada for the off chance that I’d have to endure running into her again.

2 to 3 years passed and I got a phone call most of us dread and hope to never get…my cousin had died…how? she had taken her own life…I was crushed..My whole world came to a stop and I found myself hyperventilating on the floor unable to move. The pain was so intense I can’t imagine having ever felt that way before. I think it was the pain of losing a loved one, coupled with the pain of knowing that pride had gotten in the way of saying what I really wanted to say. I spent the whole day in a daze bargaining with God for another chance and asking myself what was so bad that we couldn’t have talked about. I should’ve  been there for her, she should’ve called me…the guilt that engulfed me was knowing that we’d always talked about everything and it always felt better after. My cuzo was a vault of secrets and I knew she’d keep mine as I kept hers. I walked around in a daze wondering how I’d make that call to my family.

I must’ve been laying on the floor for eternity because a loud knock on my apartment door startled me. My body felt stiff as I dragged myself to open the door and my neighbor was standing there. My friends had called him to check on me because they had been calling me and it was unusual for me not to answer.  I must’ve looked a mess because he stared at me and immediately helped me to the couch. He grabbed my cell phone..one of those Motorola flip phones..(if you know, you know 😛) and I saw multiple missed calls from my friends and family.

I immediately called my best friend to break the news but her next words were unexpected…. My cuzo was still alive, the lady in question just had the exact same name.  To say I was relieved is an understatement…but now begged the question..would I uphold my end of the bargain? was this really a sign from God for second chances? Or would I let pride get in the  way for this once in a lifetime opportunity?

I couldn’t and didn’t waste time. I immediately picked up the phone and found out my Cuzos number…I called her and I know she doesn’t remember but of course she didn’t receive me with open arms. After I apologized for my part in the demise of our closeness…she asked me  “so the only reason you called is because you thought I was dead?…ok thanks “, and hang up.

That’s the thing about apologies and forgiveness..you don’t get to dictate to the other party when to be ready..you don’t get to decide their reaction and you just have to take it for what it is.

I meant every word of my apology and I was ok knowing that she knew I was here, I was open and I was receptive to whatever she decided.  That incident taught me the value of never leaving anything unsaid, never taking moments for granted  and never letting grudges fester for too long.

It has been years now and the conversations we share and the laughter remind me to be grateful for every crease on my face that’s been brought on by happiness and sorrow. We’re now both grown, mothers, wives and career women, but despite all these titles,we try to remind each other that we belong to ourselves first, before anyone else…I hope in the long run, you find one cuzo that you can ride life with, it lightens the load when days get heavy.
And p.s.. Dear Cuzo, I love you long time.

Afromomma says .