one crazy weekend.

I see his face wherever I go—
The reception, the corridor, the ward.
Places too close, too suffocating,
Places I don’t want to be.

I need to leave.
I’m tired.
I feel my strength slipping away,
Draining like water through cupped hands.
I’m tired.
And no amount of rest will bring it back.

These thoughts churn beneath my consciousness,
Yet my legs, swift and knowing,
Carry me to the front gate
Before I even realize.

"How did this happen?
How is it even possible?"
The questions hang in the air,
Unanswered.

Ahead, a figure waves.
"Maddy!" he calls,
And my heart stops.
It’s him.
Ryan.
Smiling.
Waving.
Is he real?
I turn, and there’s another figure,
Faint in the corner of my eye.

"When will you visit us again, Maddy?"
He asks, still smiling.
"Umm… I don’t know," I reply.
The words echo in my mind,
The same ones he said yesterday.
Just yesterday.
Ten hours ago.

How many seconds passed,
Too brief to hold him here?
If only time had stretched,
If physics could have paused its laws.
But it didn’t.

I see him—
His perfect white teeth,
His muscular hands,
His laughter,
His presence lingering
Like shadows on street corners.

But now I know:
I’ll never see Ryan again.
Ryan is gone.
Not entirely extinct,
But fading.

I won’t lie and say
He lives in our hearts forever.
No.
Ryan’s first death was today.
His second will come
When the last of us,
Who remembers him,
Speaks his name for the final time.

I sit on the sidewalk,
Watching cars rush by.
Their names, their models—
Details I’d normally note,
Lost to me now.

People pass:
Dogs, children, partners,
A man in trainers,
A woman, shadow-thin,
Like a silhouette of herself.

This is where Ryan ran every morning,
Miles and miles.
Fit and vibrant,
As if he could outrun time itself.
But time caught him,
Broke him.
He fell and never rose again.

We tried—
Words, prayers,
Desperate slaps,
Pleading with silence.
But he gave us nothing.
Not even a flicker.

If you can hear me Ryan,
I just want to say thank you for the memories you shared with us.
The days we displayed different emotions,
How problems found us,
And how we disowned the problems,
One after the other.
How we shared recipes,
And never cooked any meal.
How we contributed for the old woman next door,
And how those teenagers tried to trick us.

I’m sorry, Ryan.
For the times I hurt you,
For the times I pushed too hard.
And I’m sorry
You went jogging today.

Debbie is a mess right now.
She's still trying to come up with something,
Something to help her navigate through this sudden event.
And your children,
They are confused.
If you're hearing right now,
Please just come back.

And just do something else than jogging.
I'm still wondering,
Why did he still die suddenly,
When today's not his first day of jogging?
I need an answer.
Maybe I could answer Debbie's numerous questions.

Ryan,
If there’s any way,
Any way at all,
Come back.
And if you can’t,
I hope you’ve found peace.

It’s been a weekend.
A morning jog.
A phone call.
A breath-stealing grief.
It’s truly been a weekend..

I dedicate this story to a fellow member of my church, who suddenly died during his morning jog. And I still wonder why he died. He's been trying to stay fit for some time now. This news has been totally destabilising. Especially for my Mum, since they worked together in church service. And also his beloved family. May his soul rest in peace. 💔🖤😑

Image by Tumisu from Pixabay