Nations 8

12/5/18

I would like that you know the things I love. Life should never be as complicated as the world paints it.

Today I will tell you about my grandma. Your great grandma at that. She is late and maybe I didn’t realize how much I had grown so attached to her until she took her last breath. I love very many people with time you will know.

Mukya, I called her. We shared many things. When I went to the village my grandpa (lord bless his soul) would leave his bed for us. I did love him but maybe God took him before I got to understand him or spend so much time with him. I didn’t frequent the village because the environment change didn’t favor my health a lot and I am my dad’s little wallet. Well, when mukya came to Kampala, we shared a bedroom. Our mornings began with a sleepy long prayer that would wake you if you hoped to continue after and they ended with a prayer that got you dosing but made sure the Amen was heard. Our days were full of hymns in Runyankole. She spoke English only she and I understood. We sang rock of ages till the words stung deep, called Yesu until he said here I am, complained of pain and naked women in music videos, questioned why almost every tv soap had crying women but most of the day we were thankful. Oh yes, we were very thankful that I forgot how to ask God for certain things and be thankful for every small thing because every day was a blessing. We talked about boys and makeup and made jokes about ministers wives because she was one. Oh, she hated lazy everything with her whole life. She liked to work that even in pain she grabbed a hoe. I don’t know how to dig but I promise to pass on everything I learned. (God as my strength)

Am not perfect. Everyday I will fall short even as your mom. But I promise to be on your Team always.

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