Wow, words can’t explain how I feel. When my mother was asking me when we last spoke, I responded a little over a month because we were busy playing phone tag where either of us were available on the initial call. That’s when my mom broke the news to me, Ady has passed on. What I heard I didn’t want to believe. I immediately open my Whatsapp and begin to dial her cell number, since she was based in Angola. The phone just continued to ring and ring, NO ANSWER. That’s when it hit me. We are not playing phone tag anymore. I will never get to hear her calming voice again. Tag over.
Ady to me was a confidante. We were so different yet we shared similarities in our mental health journey. Because she was older than me, Ady took the role of an advisor, friend, big sister and an endearing ‘prima’ to me, which translates to cousin. We are not actually related but for my Ady to get ahold of me even when I was in the hospital and she is based in Africa, you know the intent strictly came out of LOVE.
I will truly miss Ady for ALL that she was. I don’t handle death lightly and this shocking news will take time for me to heal. As I don’t know the full details to her passing, I will just have to internalize that my Ady is gone, but she will never be forgotten. I will miss our simple hello’s or “I’m just calling to check up on you and see how you are doing.” I will miss our laughter and stories that were heard within the community where we called each other to confirm if that actual news was true.
Far away, yet so close to me from our hour long conversations of simply just catching up. I loved hearing her stories of all her endeavors with the school, her projects within the community, and any effort she put forth to improve her neighborhoods in Luanda. I always said when I touch down in Luanda, Ady would have to show me around, and funny enough she always asked when I would visit Angola. My response was I have to receive my passport first before I finally get to meet my family in Angola, on the other side.
What Ady meant to me, I’m sure, she meant to others as a caring, loving, and goal-ridden person. Ady I will eventually apply to medical school just like I said and I will honor you once I approach that feat. I remember encouraging her when she got her Masters in her 40s but I was so PROUD of her that she never quit, and remembered that sky is the limit. I pray to get into my top choice of Brown University, but Evalina is moving at a different pace than others normally would go. One more Masters to add to my name and then the medical doctorate will follow. I will keep on pushing hard Ady, until I accomplish my goals. You instilled that in me and I’m forever grateful to have known you.
It’s not good-bye, it’s simply farewell and adieu my dear Ady. Until we meet again.