Writing with Juliet Iwelunmor

Remind me of how we got here, how our dreams, became reality, how fullness of life, became our life, how still the dreams moving in us, then shifted, but remained in us, as we watch time go on, and your light still stayed on, this indestructible light you gift us, as days stream into years, yet your remain, that angel, full of light reaching us, if I could speak, if I could truly say all that remains buried deep within, I would begin with the name you named me, Osodieme. May it be well with you, where you are, however you are. Keep resting still, dearest Angie.

There were so many things I had intended to blog about today. The launch for example was a brilliant success. I hope people key into this space for so much more remains in store for all we hope do.

Just as I was about to write, the news of Herbert Wigwe came to my essence. I never knew the man but his character speaks for him now even in death. He said our days are numbered so what will you do to connect, experience, cherish each day? How will you live with purpose, live too with kindness, with gratitude, making every moment count as you live knowing that your days are numbered. Everything i hoped to have achieved today paled in comparison to the loss his family must be going through. To lose a beacon of light at the prime of their life. To do so far from home and with your wife and kid is the ultimate sacrifice and yet the living must grapple with the why. I want to dwell though in the now.

The thing about life is that we will all die. The hour and time is unknown but one day it will be our turn. When that day arrives, however those that love you see it, what would they say about you, your character, your essence, your life. For me, I hope they say I was ruthless in the pursuit of my dreams. I dreamed them and watched as they came to be my way. I had the audacity to dream as if it was like air. I did with a team of believers and doers and if you were pained along the way, know that life is just that pain. I didn’t take things lightly and I worked harder than I should. I did so because there was so much at stake and I felt that this gift of dreams given to me required a limitless desire to reimagine the life we want differently. If this was my last day as it was for Herbert Wigwe and his family, I hope the words people say is that I was rooted in dreams. Those that seemed beyond me. I was loved and cherished by those who literally were made to save me, those we named after my Papa, those we called gifts from God, those we call God and those that we give back to God. All of them helped me tell a tale only I could have told, my way and it begins with these words. In life, keep your dreams. Keep a plan to for them and when all else fails, still dream as if high like a moonrise.