A Message to my Grandma
Strength, Grace, Resilience. You blessed this earth with a soft dominance.
Your words were few but when you spoke, mountains bowed down at your will. A quiet and sweet entity that still embodied the most powerful of women who came before.
Grandma I love you, I see myself wanting each day to be more and more like you. I aspire to say the least and yet see the stars tremble at my words like they did yours. You led a village like an army and somehow turned into a family.
Yet, looking back, I have regrets and apologies.
I’m sorry I didn't cook with you. All your secrets and blessings were woven into your food and I’ll never know the ways of your art because of this.
I’m sorry for not holding your hand often enough because now I forget the soft grooves of your palm lines, all i remember is the toughness from too many a days work.
I’m sorry for not carrying the logs and the buckets of water because even when I couldn't see you, I could feel the strain of your back in mine.
I’m sorry I didn’t bother learning enough about you until our last day together. I hate that the recurring memory of you is the long silences on the phone when I took your breath for granted.
With all my heart, I am sorry that I didn’t bother knowing how to say I love you in our language. And even as I say that, I feel a shame. How can I call it our’s. How can I claim something I disowned and neglected for so long. ‘I love you’ cannot even begin to describe my adoration or appreciation or devotion to you because there is and never will be a word in the english language that could express my feelings for you.
Ninkukunda Munonga.
I know it now. And I’m sorry that it's too late.