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A lot like Paradise

Your name is a promise. Like honey on my tongue, it sweetens my insides every time I speak it. When others get a bundle of purpose, you’d have been our slice of heaven; our slice of paradise. A living island, exotic and welcoming, and ours to call our own.

You came with the promise of adventure and travel. We’d have been wonder-eyed at your gasps and how wow was your response for everything. And my God, how you turned our house blue. Not just with your clothes or shoes, but all shades of blue found a home with you. We called you Blueberry (a nickname you hated but grew to love) because you were wild and sweet and particular, and your eyes glistened like a clear sky; my favourite kind of weather.

I was always going to change our furniture; rework everything into that deep blue colour with teal highlights that our ottoman has. And I’m here writing this thinking how you always knew.

And I know you know this, but daddy and I would have lulled you to sleep with the chorus to LL Cool J and Amerie’s Paradise. Every night. It would have been our night night song. You’d giggle and sing along, and you’d always say how we don’t have to go looking very far because you’re with us. And I’d hold every word you breathed out in my heart.

You’re the words to a song I’m still learning to sing. The ripple to the tide I’m still caught in. But I’m glad I came on for the ride.

Oh how we love you our (Blueberry) Paradise! I saw your name on a yacht in a dream more than a decade before I knew you were the reason for it. To still keep a piece of you with me is better than nothing at all.

You are good (Zuri) and you’ve shaken us deep (Oyuke). I’ll never be the same because you were with me.


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