You came running to the gate when you heard that I was going back to school. And in your hand was an old wrinkled paper bag. You gave it to me, and offered to escort me to the stage. We talked as we walked, I really can’t remember what we talked about. But I remember that you gave me fifty shillings. You said I should buy something.

It was very muddy. I had to change my shoes when we got to the stage. You said you’d carry the muddy shoes back home. And I gave them to you, without much appreciation.

Had I known that it was the last time I was seeing you alive, I’d have stayed with you and never left your side… Had I known that it was the last time I was hugging you, I’d have hugged you tighter… Had I known that it was the last time I was hearing from you, I’d have been more attentive… And had I known that he was taking you away from me, I’d have begged him to stop.

The last words you said to me were,’ Say hi to mama Shiro.’ I remember being a little confused. Not knowing who you were referring to. But I brushed it aside. How I wish I got out of the vehicle then to ask you to be more specific. Maybe I’d have heard your voice again; or even looked into your eyes one last time.

After a month I heard that you were sick; not so sick my mum told me. She was lying. She thought I’d not concentrate in school.

After a week I was told that you were ok; that you’d be released from the hospital later that day. It was on a Saturday.

Image adapted from www.billyok.com

That’s why I could not believe it when dad called in the evening. All he said was that it was the will of God. He could talk no more, but I needed not hear any more. I said no! It was not the will of God! How could it be?!?

I cried for days; refusing to accept that you were gone, hoping stupidly that you’d come back to me. But that was not to be.

I know you are in a better place. Otherwise you’d be back.

But I miss you very much. I wish I appreciated you more when you were with us. I wish I loved you more, and I wish I’d shown you how much I cared.

I still have the kiondo you made for me. It reminds me of you.

Though it’s a little late to tell you this, just know that I loved you very much, always have, and always will.

I miss you very much grandma.

Your grandkid,

Shiro.