Maame

by Jessica George

“You’re Christian, Shu. Do you always believe in God?” “Yeah, course. Got to.” “Why?” “Because,” she says, “I can’t carry on living believing human beings are as good as it gets.” She looks at me. “We’re the worst.”

I chalk it up to yet another thing schools fail to teach us: how to do your taxes, how to buy a property, and how to tell when you’re being taken for a fool.

It’s about what love is. Which is trust, commitment, empathy, and respect. It means really giving a shit about the other person.”

“I … Sometimes I think of love as pieces of one heart. When I love someone, I break off a piece and give it to them. There are not so many because that way each piece is substantial, but without a doubt, my dad has one of the biggest pieces I have and will ever give. It cannot be replaced. It is his forever. God bless my father and may he rest in peace.”

“Good. I ask if you think you’re well-loved because it’s easy to conflate being well-liked with being well-loved. There’s often a misconception that to be well-loved, the love has to come from multiple sources, when truthfully, one or two people can love you with the strength of ten. Do

“I know it sounds it. But you’re not supposed to ‘get over’ someone dying,” he says, “especially someone you loved, and your feelings of guilt may not be justified, but they are natural. Thing is, you don’t ever go back, Maddie, to life before, and my advice is to accept that. To accept that you’re not the same person you were when your dad was alive and you can’t be again. Accept that your life is different now because of this monumental, irreversible change and that it’s okay to feel guilty

one day and indescribable happiness another. This is life now,” he says. “This is how you live.”