Kaffy and Mom

Vowel by vowel and syllable by syllable, Kaffy deconstructed ‘Mom’s’ attempts to be understood

It hadn’t been easy. But finally Kaffy became the sole person through whom Mom could communicate with world.

Dementia was complicated by cancer followed by a stroke. For a year and a half Kaffy lived in with her client, sharing a one-bedroom in an assisted living community.

The woman treated her with such regard that Kaffy took to calling her Mom. A gesture as therapeutic as the meals, baths and extras she provided.

Wherever Mom went— to the store, the beauty parlor and the park where they bounced the ball — Kaffy went.

They were a tag-team in the game room, Mom would buy bingo cards for herself and for Kaffy. They routinely played the ponies, handicapping a field of horses moved by a roll of the dice.

Kaffy won so often some suspected she was practicing the Black Arts, not knowing that the Nigerian’s biggest wager — one with no guarantees — had been immigrating to the U.S. five years earlier.

The two formed a spiritual connection. Kaffy’s open-voweled Yoruban accent harmonized with Mom’s frustrated efforts as they sang hymns and spirituals.

One ritual especially meaningful occurred in the chapel downstairs. The woman in rapid decline took enormous comfort from the sacrament of communion, and from the spiritual preparedness it required. It pleased her each time Kaffy joined her in receiving the sacrament.

It wasn’t until later that Mom realized her caregiver participated strictly as a courtesy to her; and that Fridays — not Sundays — was the day when Kafayat Ikumogunly directed her devotions to Allah.

The religions of the both women hold that there is one true supreme being. And if that is to be believed, then Allah and God must be one and the same.