The READ: Notes On Grief

 I've always enjoyed reading AFREADA's Friday newsletters, so when they asked for contributions from their readers, I thought to myself, 'Why Not?'. 

I didn't immediately get an idea of what I should write about, so it slipped my mind for a while. One night, after dinner, I came across the email and decided to give it a shot. A few minutes later, I had scribbled down 350 words. I read through it quickly and submitted it before I could change my mind.

It felt too personal because I had shared a part of a private letter I was writing to my daughter, Deborah. Sometimes, when I feel overwhelmed with grief, the only thing I want to do is to put my feelings into words. Sometimes, I hold back because I feel like I am 'flogging' my loss. Sometimes, to be free, I set the words free.

Because I didn't get any confirmation email from AFREADA, I had thought that the submission had failed until I received an email from Nancy Adimora, the founding editor. My intro had been selected and would be included in the newsletter going out the following morning. 

It was supposed to be like a journal entry, a reflection that in some way should link to literature. Below is my intro:

When you feel overwhelmed with grief and old coping techniques don’t work, try writing.
After my pregnancy was terminated last March at 27 weeks for medical reasons, I returned home and couldn’t figure out what to do with my life. I didn’t know whether to return to the life I had before conception, or to adapt to a new life after my loss. In my attempt to cope, once again, I turned to writing.
As a teenager, I turned to poetry to deal with the violent loss of my mother and it saved my life. Writing can be therapeutic. You can publish it or keep it private. You can write your feelings in a journal or even make voice memos of your thoughts. You can write a letter to your future self about your current struggles, or you can write a letter to your lost loved one about the things you didn’t get the chance to say. You can write a memoir, or you can write a tribute like Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's Notes on Grief.
In the letter I am writing to my daughter, Deborah, I have written, “I wondered if you would enjoy reading and writing like me. I planned to fill up your bookshelves with colourful picture books you would not tire of hearing. I saw us bonding together every night over a book. You in your bed staring up at me with bright eyes while laughing as I do the voices. I imagined that when you would be older and would leave home to start your own life, we would still continue to bond over books as we borrow each other our favourites. Sometimes I dare to dream that you stayed with us and that you became a world-renowned writer.”
I’m not promising you that writing will completely heal you. Grief has no timeline or time frame. I’m just saying that it may help you cope with your loss and make your journey a little easier.
Ayo, from Nigeria (currently living in France)