Almost three months now since you left, and no matter how hard I have tried to write this for you, I have found myself failing, ending up in tears. Today, I have told myself this is the only way I can at least find closure and so I have to do it. It’s the least I can do for you. It’s so unfortunate, you won’t read this, I would have loved to see you smile, reading something dedicated specially for you. I am sorry I never wrote anything for you when you were still alive, it hurts so much, knowing how proud you were whenever I published something.
8 April 2018 is one of the most difficult days of my life. The image of you, lying on your death bed, will never be erased from my mind. You had promised me you will be fine, had I known ma, that that smile you gave me as I left the hospital Saturday night, was going to be the last, I would have stayed with you.
Life is not fair ma, and it is painful. I have so much memories of us together and whenever I think of them all, I see love. You never wanted me to lack, you made sure I had enough to take me through a journey or even just for the night. I remembered when we would travel and you would never finish your food before you were sure I was full. When we went for long journeys, you would never sleep and leave me awake in a bus, you would make sure I am comfortable before you took your nap.
Oh how I miss the moments we shared together. Talk about just the walk from 1700 to 1569, how much we would talk and laugh and you would repeatedly say ‘Nyasha urikunyepa’ whenever I told you about an experience I had gone through. Our difficulty in reversing and how that day daddy had to draw a diagram for us as a way of explaining to us how to do it right. I miss you.
Your love was immeasurable, and I still feel it now. You should see how many people still talk of the good you did at the clinic and in the community. You truly were an angel and I am sure you are one of the hardworking angels in heaven.
I miss how much you had me spoiled, how whenever we had to do some chores you would eventually say, you can rest, I will finish it off. I miss your smile. I miss how you were always excited about my school events or whatever occasion I had. How much you would always ask if you were on point so that you would never embarrass me in front of my friends. You never embarrassed me, you were always on point. They all remember you.
Now Anotida and Kuziva always have questions that we can never answer. They miss you so much but they know they are loved by their mothers. They are all safe. Marcus is growing big, and trust me, he’s always warm, just as you would have liked.
It’s never going to be easy to let go or understand why you were taken from us. It’s especially hard for me going past Mbuya Dorcas hospital each and every day, all I see is the image of your face, lying in your death bed. It will never be easy and we will never understand why.
I will always love you and I hope we will meet some day. May your soul rest in eternal peace. I miss you.