“Oftentimes, I had gone to the river to look at my reflection in the sunlight. Each time a face looked at me with subdued eyes. What I saw was not the same as the image I pretended to see when I looked in the mirror. Stubbornly, I found solace in blaming the ripples for the wrinkles and abhorrent distortions on my face. A painful allegory of sight, and a revelation of reality.”
― Fidelis O. Mkparu, author of Tears Before Exaltation’
As I march on this contentious trail before exaltation, tears keep me company. An uninvited companion in a time of self-doubt while searching for exhilaration. A feeling of loneliness engulfs me in the presence of many. Without hesitation, please rejoice with me as the anointed day approaches. At this juncture, finding my spot on a slippery path is my desire. With a sense of reverence, I will never forget that at times, there is ‘Tears Before Exaltation.’
Fidelis O Mkparu, author of ‘Tears before Exaltation.’
‘Tears Before Exaltation’ is a literary drama about courage and resilience to be released on March 16, 2018 by Harvard Square Editions. Available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and other bookstores. Order your copy, or copies. Thank you for your support.
After many years of knowing her, she died. Instead of leaving me with a heartbreak, she left behind wonderful memories. Memories of teasing me and pretending to fall asleep when I walk into her room. There are no tears to be shed. Instead, I celebrated our friendship. Twenty-two years of smiles and laughter. Unhurried narration of her life stories and hugs. Rewarding me with birthday cards and Christmas greetings. Scolding me with a smile before each departure, and winks by the door before she left my office. Each time, I stood and watched her struggle to get into her car. Even with all her physical struggles, she never missed the chance to visit me every three months until she was taken away from me permanently. Her death. Her departure from earth. As much as I struggle with the event, I would not call it untimely. I said my farewell, but I still cherish what we had. A sempiternal friendship
Fidelis O Mkparu, February 6, 2018.
“I woke up this morning, January 1, 2018 to reflect on my dreams. I could not remember what I dreamed about the night before. My past was gone, and my future has yet to come. I must embrace my present, and make the best of it. If my future ever comes, I would be ready for anything that confronts me.
Turning all the lights on in my bathroom, I looked in the mirror with blurred vision and clogged brain. I wondered who I was searching for in the mirror; the man I used to be, the man looking back at me, or the man I would like to become. Many years have passed since I had a critical assessment of my life. I know I had spent more than half of my assigned life on earth already, therefore, my dreams must be more realistic and attainable. Since my life journey is winding down, it’s a good time to take stock of what is left to be done. My ambitions and things I neglected over the past 59 years.”—Fidelis O Mkparu, author of soon to be released novel ‘Tears before Exaltation’ Harvard Square Editions.
A group of young students surrounded me. The author of ‘Love’s Affliction.’ The man with all the answers about love, as they probably believed. Amazed at their exuberance, I reflected and smiled. Maybe from a change in my demeanor, some of them came closer to me as if I was about to share a revelation. A wisdom of age and experience. When I smiled more, they said, “tell us about love. Your inspiration for your book.” I sighed. They waited, anxiously.
How I explained love to the students was as succinct as possible for me. A mini treatise. Avoiding verbosity, my inclination, I proceeded to tell them my opinion about love. It is not how many times we say, “I love you,” or how many cards we send to each other that matter. Several events came to my mind as I looked at them. The eager students surrounding me. I remembered love in so many ways; sharing one winter coat at a bus-stop on a cold December evening. Holding each other tight to create oneness that made a coat adequate for two people. As they smiled and laughed, I remembered another story that I could not share with them; sharing a kiss and saliva when one of us is sick with a flu, and staying awake to ‘guard’ the recovery. I could not share that story with them for health reasons, but I told them that I know love when I see it. It is not what I hear about love that matters, but what one does for love.
Summarizing for them, I stated that true love is what we feel, and not what we hear about the immensity of it. As I was walking away, I told them not to shed ‘Tears before Exaltation’, but rather, to discover the secret of perpetual happiness. Everyone laughed.
Fidelis O Mkparu, author of ‘Love’s Affliction’ and soon to be published ‘Tears before Exaltation’
I identified my components this morning; one wants to stay in bed to enjoy the rainy day, the adventurist wants to run away to explore the world, and the best part of me accepts my calling to stay my course to take care of lives entrusted in my hands. Never run away from who you are. You can’t reach your destination in life without you. (Fidelis O Mkparu, author of ‘Love’s Affliction’ May 1, 2017)
“I’ll never forget the magic of our Saturday nights. Special moments carved in my mind by you the sculptor of my love. Let’s dance the night away. Who needs music, when your heart already sings to me.” ~ Fidelis O Mkparu (2016), author of ‘Love’s Affliction’
“There was no moon to influence the night. Just you, your beauty, and your wondrous smile. We sat for two hours. Kisses and nibbles. Laughing and fondling. Falling for each other endlessly. We woke to embrace, and arouse. Fanning the fire we started. Losing every sense of time, and embracing candor. Whispers and moaning.” ~Fidelis O Mkparu, (2016) author of ‘Love’s Affliction’
“We sailed at dawn. Moonless night. Dark clouds hovered in the horizon. Howling wind, and choppy water. Our boat rocked from side to side. Dancing for the water god. A jitterbug. We approached the deck with trepidation until warm sloppy kisses lit our fire. Our bodies twisted together as if malleable. Parts finding its natural receptacles. I’ll dance for no god tonight. Only your love can make my heart sway.” ~Fidelis O Mkparu (2016), author of ‘Love’s Affliction’
I remember when we were kids; secret pacts with our pinkies intertwined. “We’ll be friends forever. No, brother and sister.” We sealed our pact with a trip to the candy store. I bought for you, and you held my hand. Two innocent kids having fun. You clung to me. Exaggerated swinging hands, and skip walk, until we reached your house. A story building across from my primary school, where your mother was my teacher. From afar, I could see your parents watching us, leaning on the ornamental rail on their balcony. My third trip escorting you home that evening. A frown on your father’s face was not menacing enough for me to overlook your mother’s exuberance. It was overtly evident with her smile. Candid expressions, as they watched our summer evening ritual.
“They’re back!” your mom said. Sheer enthusiasm. In the backdrop, I heard her whisper to your father, “I wish he was our son.” I smiled. It felt good to be wanted by your parents. An option for me, in case my parents waved their rights. I knew it could never happen, but it felt good. Conceit.
When I decided to go home, you sobbed. Tears, and a look of disappointment in your eyes. “I want to live with you,” you said. You were eight. An innocent proposal. I smiled. “I’ll ask my mom,” you added.
“I’ll be back in the morning,” I said. You hugged me, and held on. Toffee breath wisped through my face. Your penchant to blow your breath on my face whenever we hugged. My spoiled little sister.
Now, years have passed, and you may have forgotten our final pact in July of 1977. At six pm, the church bell rang. We stood at the entrance to the sacristy. Only one of us could go in. It was my last time at the altar. The letter from the Dominican seminary fell from my hand. You picked it up, and read it against my will. My pastoral wish granted, but medical school had flirted with me when I was vulnerable. I saw myself in a different white robe. Not for Sunday mass, but for a daily healing. I acquiesced.
When I entered the sacristy, you chose the side door to the front pew. I watched you as the single pew by the altar welcomed my knees. My head bowed in total submission to God. I asked for forgiveness with my eyes closed. It was the end of my Dominican priesthood fantasy, and my last day with you. You were there, my little sister, to support my final decision.
When we emerged from the church, you left me standing by the door. No hugs, or intertwined fingers. From a distance, you said, “don’t let any girl break your heart, and please, come home in one piece, someday.” I watched you disappear as the setting sun blinded me.
Fidelis O Mkparu, July 17, 2016.
Fidelis O Mkparu Books 
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