A poem and tribute to my Nana Lilly Murdoch Sokimi. After nearly six years, we’ve fulfilled her wish, laying her ashes to rest on her island home, a place I knew only through her stories but have now walked myself #kuria #kiribati

💕
For you my beloved Nana you are cherished ❤️🌴

I miss you so much, but my heart knows you’re at peace and no longer at fuss

You’re laid to rest on Kuria, the island you love. Home with your beloved ones, safe in the stars above.

I miss you nana but I know you’re home

I sit on the beach, the sand warms beneath me. Your tales of old times dance in the waves of the sea

I miss you nana but I know you’re home

I wish you were here, right by my side,
But I feel you watching, with love as my guide.

I miss you nana but I know you’re home

Riding on the back of a motorbike, wind in my face, I see you in the land, in every sacred place.

I miss you nana but I know you’re home

The coconut trees sway gently, I’ll never forget whispering your tales you told me as a child oh how I fret.

I miss you nana but I know you’re home

I walk on the beach where the sand holds your steps and I hear your laughter, your glories in depths.

I miss you Nana but I know you are here
Kuria, your home, your land holds you now, in its warm, endless way.

In the heart of this island, where families join you by your side and love will never fade away .

You are home, my dearest Nana, you are home, my heart aches to say, forever here and my heart you will always stay.

From Fiji to Kuria we have reached the shores, May you Rest in eternal peace my dearest Nana on this sacred island of yours.

Never more distraught
than when parents dared
to have a night out near Christmas.
Complete desolation at their betrayal
was quickly assuaged by nana,
babysitting like a boss,
with a steady stream of treats
and staying up late to watch
Dempsey and Makepeace

O-ut
L-ived
D-esire

Ever since I was a little girl, I never called anyone old.
I referred to older people as elderly.
One day, out of nowhere I decided that a person is "old" when they reach the age of 70.
My grandmother, who I call nana turned 70 last year.
Now I am morally allowed to call her old in my mind.
She thinks it's hilarious and she loved her mockery of a cake!

All jokes aside though, being "old" scares me. As I'm sure it scares many. To me "old" means; out lived desire. The desire to live becomes almost invisible; non existent. My mother is fighting two battles. Mental and physical. The mental aspect of her brain is fueled by her children's emotions and her physical pain. She is constantly worrying about her children and if they are okay mentally and physically. She has had her share of mistakes but she will always be my momma. Her physical battle consumes her whole body. Pain 24/7 with little to no relief. She is a strong women but because of her mental battle all her life, her body is that of an older woman. Medicine only goes so far and sometimes it feels like my prayers hit the ceiling and fall. My mom is not "old" but sometimes I feel like she "out lived desire." She continues to fight these two battles with a smile on her face [most days.]

Today you are 18,036 days old, but today, you are stronger, braver, and wiser than when you were 18,035 days old!!!

My mum got a call
I wasn't supposed to listen
But I did
You have passed away
Hopefully without pain
Shes still on the phone
Not knowing that I know
I cant let her know
That Im choking back these tears
Why is everyone
Leaving this Earth
This year
I know you were old
And I know I have never seen you
Because you live so far away
But I love you dearly and I hope you are okay
I love you my nana
And forever will

I took a walk down a sloping path
Trees and brambles, nature’s bloodbath

My hands, a guide
My eyes, a map
My mouth, drooling and drawn to that amber sap

The ground below finally led me there
A trusted fort, a quiet town square
A lonely whistle serenading the unsoiled air

A symmetrical tree sat waiting like a snare
For me to take its’ paragon
But, oh, do I even dare?