Denrele Edun Pays Tribute To Goldie

Denrele Edun Pays Tribute To Goldie

Yesterday, February 14, 2018 made it 5 years that Nigeria lost one of her female singers, Goldie Harvey, but her friend Denrele Edun remembers her just like yesterday.

He visited her grave side yesterday and penned these lengthy words to her;

“Dearest friend,
You have been dead for FIVE YEARS now.

I can’t say it has been easy learning to live without you. Heading into year FIVE, I can say I have started to make real progress. I can talk about your death without crying. I can look people in the eye and tell them how you died. And now I finally feel like I can be honest with you. Okay, not with you per se, but I can be honest with myself about you.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will never see you again. It was incredibly difficult to reconcile my desire to see you again with my belief that there is no afterlife. I used to look for you everywhere, hoping that you were watching over me and sending me signs. But I don’t need you to linger anymore. I am finally at ease with your passing.

It shouldn’t have been a secret that I loved you for being more than a friend and closer than family. While I was completely satisfied with what I thought was the ideal platonic male/female relationship, I know others thought that we could be perfect for each other. How serendipitous it would have been!

It pains me to admit that I think about you more now than I did when you were alive. I stare into your negative space and fear that one day I will go twenty-four hours without pausing to remember you. I let your tense slide from present to past and even past perfect.

While it is frightening to think of what comes next, somehow, in your own way, you’ve prepared me for it. You were my first friend and my first eulogy. I think it would make you, the eternal optimist that you were, happy to know that your friendship keeps making me a better, stronger person. You showed me that I can function in the face of tragedy. You taught me the vocabulary of grief so I can comfort others when they need it. I never would have asked for it to be this way, but if this is what I can take from it, I will.

So, dearest friend, that’s all I have to share for now. I’ll raise a glass for your 38th birthday this October, and, as always, I’ll keep you in my thots.

P.S: I wore YOUR DRESS to ur graveside. It’s ripped here and there (You’ll pull my hair out for this) but it’s cos I’v been dancing #Skibobo in it all day long!
RIP GOLDIE”

Dearest friend, You have been dead for FIVE YEARS now. I can’t say it has been easy learning to live without you. Heading into year FIVE, I can say I have started to make real progress. I can talk about your death without crying. I can look people in the eye and tell them how you died. And now I finally feel like I can be honest with you. Okay, not with you per se, but I can be honest with myself about you. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will never see you again. It was incredibly difficult to reconcile my desire to see you again with my belief that there is no afterlife. I used to look for you everywhere, hoping that you were watching over me and sending me signs. But I don’t need you to linger anymore. I am finally at ease with your passing. It shouldn’t have been a secret that I loved you for being more than a friend and closer than family. While I was completely satisfied with what I thought was the ideal platonic male/female relationship, I know others thought that we could be perfect for each other. How serendipitous it would have been! It pains me to admit that I think about you more now than I did when you were alive. I stare into your negative space and fear that one day I will go twenty-four hours without pausing to remember you. I let your tense slide from present to past and even past perfect. While it is frightening to think of what comes next, somehow, in your own way, you’ve prepared me for it. You were my first friend and my first eulogy. I think it would make you, the eternal optimist that you were, happy to know that your friendship keeps making me a better, stronger person. You showed me that I can function in the face of tragedy. You taught me the vocabulary of grief so I can comfort others when they need it. I never would have asked for it to be this way, but if this is what I can take from it, I will. So, dearest friend, that’s all I have to share for now. I’ll raise a glass for your 38th birthday this October, and, as always, I’ll keep you in my thots. P.S: I wore YOUR DRESS to ur graveside. It’s ripped here and there (You’ll pull my hair out for this) but it’s cos I’v been dancing #Skibobo in it all day long! RIP GOLDIE

A post shared by Denrele Edun (@denrele_edun) on Feb 14, 2018 at 11:10am PST