I hope you don’t think that all my positive talks of “living love and breathing life into every moment,” is in place of the pain and hurt that I feel in regards to the loss of Tinu. Because it hurts. It hurts a lot. And if I dwell on the loss for more than a minute, I can not stop the tears. And the pain just grows until the only thing is to go home, get in bed and cry myself to sleep.
In living love I just mean we can’t give into the darkness. The pain is real and its there. But we have to keep living with the pain and through the pain. I’m trying to do that.
I’ve come to realize that there is a trigger than happens with me in regards to Tinu. The first time it happened was in Minnesota when I was with Lola, Ariel and Chris. We were all in a mall shopping for what we would wear to the funeral. The scene in and of itself is bizarre to me. Sad shopping sucks. While people are looking for dresses for a date or job interview we were looking for the appriopriate attire for a funeral. I think in the future, I will just grab what’s in the closet unless its being specially prepared by someone else like the Olatju’s funeral attire.
It’s just a bizarre situation to me.
So we were at one store, Charlotte Ruse or something like it and we’re looking for stuff. As we each show the rest what might work and what might not I happened upon a discount rack of prom dresses. Some were just so cute. Others were hideous. And then I thought of my sixteen year old sister and the dress I bought her for her band banquet. And I thought of her prom. And the boy she’ll go with. And her high school graduation.
And I thought of Tinu and in the middle of this store where teen girls are chirping away and Lola wants to know what I think of a particular shirt and Chris is bringing his wife a pair of shoes she might like, I willed myself not to cry. I just had to stand there. Look at nothing in particular. And try not to think. Don’t think about it. The fact that she won’t go to prom. Or apply to colleges. Or graduate high school. Or have a boyfriend that we can scrutinize. You can not have a breakdown in Charlotte Ruse. You’ve already had one in all the other stores.
Recently I was at another store looking for a pair of leggings. I really wanted a pair of those denim leggings that I see everyone rocking these days. And as I looked at rack after rack of clothes that are too skimpy or won’t fit, I heard a group of teenage girls looking at dresses and laughing. I just had to take a moment to collect myself. Because without warning I was just so sad. I want Tinu to shop at the mall with her friends. I want her to giggle and buy clothes her dad would not approve of. I want her here.
The other day on the train a teenage girl sat beside me with her younger brother. He may have been 12 or so. She directed him where to sit, to stop being loud and asked him if he had any homework. I thought of her and I thought of my sister. I thought of all my sisters and my brother and how they act with one another. And then I thought of Tinu and I was just so freaking sad. Utterly sad.
I recall eating Vietnamese with Lola years ago. We were discussing my abusive ex step father and the loss of my dear friend James. I was quoted as saying, “Either they hurt you or they die.” Lola made a sad face with me as we cried of Pho and Vietnamese pancakes. We were just young women living lives in Chicago then trying to make our way through relationships, jobs and hip hop clubbing. At times that was our biggest problem of the week. What hip hop club would we go to on Saturday because we were so sick of the Funky Buddha Lounge.
And now, now I don’t like to see teenagers shopping because it reminds me of Lola’s sister Tinu and how in a minute everything changes and you find your heart in pieces and your mind utterly confused.
February 15, 1995 – May 29, 2010
Facebook Group: In Loving Memory of Tinuola Olateju
Facebook Group: R.I.P Tinu
Relevant issues, sites, & topics….
Out of Darkness Overnight Walk
American Foundation for Suicide Prevention
American Association for Suicidology
Suicide Awareness Voices Education
Photo Credit
All the toys I bought to go with it…not so much.
