She's set free...

Nokuphiwa passed away on Tuesday. She was so young, so clever, so in love with school and her family, so inspiring, so filled with compassion. She was so many things; the only one that mattered in the end was that she was so sick.

Its 6:30 am on Saturday and instead of serenely swimming amid my sheets I find myself wide awake. Sitting here thinking pointless questions that always begin with the futile ‘what if?’

Senseless and unrealistic they invade my thoughts.
What if I had gone to visit Nokuphiwa the Monday we returned or the Tuesday after I worked?
What if I had insisted on her getting more medicine or more oxygen?
What if while biding her time she was scared?
What if she was lonely?
What if I decided not to go for a run and instead went to comfort her?
Even though it was only two days I know that I comforted her while I was able. I eased her tension and fears, made her forget about her unhealthy body and provided her with friendship.

But deep down, somewhere in the midst of my own healthy organs is a space I did not even know existed. It is the place where my tears get choked back and where my heart is so constricted it skips a beat. This is the place that feels the weight of sadness as though it was tangible. This is the place I ache.

I ache for Nokuphiwa, Kim, Tangiwe, Mandelinkosi and Lindiwe who have already lost their lives. I ache for all my patients who are still struggling, for those who I have yet to meet and for the families and friends whose lives get turned upside down. I ache for the hurt and sadness that assaults the patients that I see every day. These patients who have become my friends.

I ache for the small children who sat beside me at Nokuphiwas memorial service Friday. Their faces so strewn with tears and their bodies so full of despair that it seeped out of them. As I sat in her school yard, in one of her school chairs and watched her teachers, classmates, friends and family speak I couldn’t help but feel privileged to have known her.

Her best friend gave me the piece of paper that had what she read on it:

Oh Kuya!
Kuya uinuku
Vuamthatha Ngempela
Udade Wethu

Kukhalwa Ngapha
Nangapha imicamelo!
Igwele izinyembezi
Ngenwa Yakho kuya
Kepho owunazwelo
Uwungmahloni

Ushiye icinhliciyo zethu ubuhlungu singabayundi
Kubuhlungu kuthisha besikcle ebekade bekonye ngwe
Kubuhlungu emndenini owushiquile

Hamba Kahle Nokuphiwa

Ubuyintombi ezintombini
Ubuyiphawe lamaghuwe
Kepho izinhlungu zikudlile

Ubuyikhokonke kithina
Siyohlezi Sikuthanda!
Siyohlezi Sikukhumbula!

Ulale ngocolo
Lalu Ngkuthula magatsheni omuhle
Usikhumule kwelizayo!

In just two days, the first at the Respite which I have already written about and the second the day after when I visited her in the hospital she changed my life. She provided me with friendship and love. She let me see through her eyes to the fragility of life and also to the beauty of life.

The second time I went to visit her she had been moved to a bed that had an oxygen tank attached to it. She opened her eyes as I took her hand in mine. She told me she accepted her sickness and was ready to see her family in heaven. I assured her that she was getting better and she looked and smiled. She closed her eyes and I rubbed her arm until she fell asleep. I kissed her forehead and whispered that I would be back on Monday to visit, but as I walked out of Ward 2 I knew deep down that, that would be the last time I saw her.

The day of her memorial service sadness surrounded be, it was perched on the rooftop, looking down at me. But seated next to it was a small bird with wings of gold. Every time I looked up at it, it seemed to be smiling at me. When the service concluded the bird flew over everyone and then let out one glorious song as it flew away. At that moment I knew Nokuphiwa was set free.

(Translation of her friends letter)
Oh Death!
You you ugly!
You really too my sister.

People are crying
Left and right
The pillows are
Full of tears, because
Of you, but you Nokuphiwa
have compassion
you also don’t have shame

You left our sore hearts
When we were still at school
Even the teachers have hearts sore
That they weren’t with you.
It also sore in the family you left.

Go well Nokuphiwa!
You were the girl in girls
You were the hero of the heroes.
But you were in agony and pain.
You were everything to us.
We will always love you!
We will always miss you!

Rest in peace
Rest in peace beautiful Ndlouvu
We will miss you!