Last month my ex-wife, Sonji Delicia Nicholls (nee Daniel), passed away. It was the end of a five-year battle with cancer. Today’s blog is my small way of honouring her life but first a bit of back-story…
Sonji’s death and a couple other issues in my life have had me immobilized for a few weeks now. I struggled to write anything. I felt overwhelmed and when I get emotionally overwhelmed, I shut down. I retreated into my cave. In any case, what would I write about? I did not have any inspiration about anything, and I did not have the strength to tackle the landmine of sensitivities surrounding writing about one’s ex-wife (or any of the other issues for that matter). I mean, what would I say? How would our son, Isaac, feel about it? How would her family feel about it? How would my wife feel about it?
As I slowly emerged from my emotional coma, I felt a growing desire to write down my thoughts. It’s my therapy. But first I had to talk it over with my life partner. After a few decades of sharing the planet with the female gender, I’ve finally gained enough emotional intelligence to know that after being emotionally unavailable to my current wife for weeks it’s not a good idea for her to read a blog about my ex-wife without any prior discussion. 😊
Why is it so much easier to write about how I feel and post for the world to see than to look the person closest to me in the eye and talk about it? Because I care so much more about what she thinks than anyone else. That’s how vulnerability works. That’s one of the reasons why being a truly Godly husband is far more difficult and laudable than being a great Christian leader. But I digress…
Sonji and I have been divorced for over 15 years and over those years there is one thing that has united us – our mutual desire for the best for our son, Isaac. As to what constituted the best for him, on some things we agreed, and others were a source of continuous conflict. One of the latter was my desire for Isaac to come to live with me during his teenage years. Well, my desire has finally been fulfilled but it’s so bittersweet. For Isaac to lose his mother at eighteen is something no right-thinking father would wish for his son.
That brings me to Saul and David. They had their disagreements too (to put it mildly) and one could easily argue that Saul’s death made David’s life so much easier… but David did not see it that way and I understand how he felt so much better now. David mourned the loss of Saul. So much so that he wrote a song of lament over him. He only remembered the best of him…. And this is how I remember Sonji… And I don’t just mean that I choose to. I mean that, now, literally, all that fills my thoughts are the good things that she embodied. When someone is gone the disagreements seem so insignificant compared with who they were to you.
I remember the girl that loved God passionately. Sonji’s passion for Jesus diverted the path of my life from aimless existence to purposeful pursuit. I will be forever thankful for her for pointing me towards God in a deeper way. I remember the early days when we were just friends, I would travel with her from work and walk her from her house to a prayer meeting in the neighbourhood. All the while she would chatter on and on about the bible and what God was doing in her life. I never had to carry the conversation, but it was just nice to bathe in the light of her passion for God.
I remember Sonji’s grandmother. Sonji loved her dearly and I believe she got her love for God as an inheritance from her granny. She could barely see, her back was severely bent and her feet were worn by years of walking but despite her physical appearance her spirit was not downtrodden in any way. She was a pillar in Sonji’s life. I am positive that right now she and Sonji are enjoying a very joyful heavenly reunion!
Sonji was the consummate mother. She was the product of two generations of matriarchal homes and I only understood later how that shaped her in ways that were not even conscious on her part. She was a matriarch long before Isaac was born. I remember the motherly role she played in her little brother’s life. She would worry about him constantly and always took care of him. Yes, the mother instinct in Sonji was strong. I remember her forcing Isaac to eat as a toddler. He was always a big boy and I would point out to her that he was in no way malnourished and that he would surely eat when he was ready. She was not deterred. She was going to make sure her son was well fed. Even when Isaac was a hard-back teenager, she would still call me when he was with me to check whether I had given him breakfast. It was a running joke between us. She couldn’t help it. Everything she did was with Isaac in mind.
I remember her strength. She was not loud and did not like confusion or conflict but do not think for a second that that meant that she lacked strength of conviction. She made her way quietly but indomitably. This was evident in her illness. She was upbeat and smiling throughout every second of her fight with cancer. She didn’t even look ill. If you did not know that she was fighting for her life you couldn’t tell.
I firmly believe that Sonji is now her best self. Complete, whole, beholding Jesus with clear sight and no doubt ringside in the cloud of witnesses cheering us on (especially Isaac of course). I will do my best Sonji, to walk with Isaac on the next leg of his journey. You certainly did your best in bringing him to adulthood. I honour you.
