Family and friends in a requiem mass a day ago, came together to celebrate her life. The celebrated Journalist revealed he had penned a note to her before her death.

So I wrote this letter once we realized that we wouldn't have much time with mum. I titled it TIME

For Wanjira:

You never steeped into the same river twice, yet like every drop, like every moment of love, feels familiar. Which brings back memory and which fades into the current. I can't remember when it began, but I know that the first wave of your love reached me before my soul found a home in this body.

You loved me before time began its march against us here on earth, yours is a love that I know better than I know myself. Even as thousands of memories obscure my mind's eye, your love remains tangible like the shirt on my back.

I wear it and it wears me. I've known this feeling for so long that I took for granted that it would always live int he body for which it radiates. The woman whose teeth collapsed months after giving birth to me but spoke of the pain as a badge of honor.

The woman whose hugs radiated with love and safety Wanjira, my foolish heart convinced itself that the flesh, the bone and the skin I've known all my life, was the love itself, like a River I could step into whenever I wanted to feel that cool refreshing jolt.

But time isn't as foolish as my heart. Every year you changed a little, aged a little, yet because God has been so kind to you, the changes were imperceptible to me. You have always been beautiful, when time turned your hair grey, your beauty turned those harbingers overcoming sunset. into hallmarks of elegance, in my eyes.

Tiem saw through the naivety of my heart, now I know. What i thought was my enemy is my teacher time is teaching me that you are more than the person that I can see or touch. Every act of your physical belong has been loved, translated into flesh, bone I could understand.

Your lessons in writing were teaching me to wield words because they hold more power than nay ounce of strength that God has given me, words that have become the stories that I now tell the world. Your eyes, dancing with light, or dimmed with despair, were reflecting the moments that you were passing through. your words of encouragement, were telling me not to give up, even upon wave of wave of bad news crashed into our family.

Your tears were little streams fromt hat River of love. Pure- even when you cried inf rustration.anger of int he face of betrayal. Your courage ot keep going even when you stood alone, showed me that love is a foundation of legacy. And now as you find peace in sayign goodbye, it is a peace I still struggle to understand, I feel it must coem fromt he oen who mad ethe River flow, the oen who gave Wanira to us, he is telling us to let go of the aparition that is your physical prescence. and accept who we truly are

it is love reminding me, that though droplets form in its waves and runs past, they are all still water, How can i long for the water that has just flowed by when I am steeped in a current, how can I long for the only water I will remember, when I am wrapped in something that existed before memory.

You have a and will always love me. As one of your children, I have no choice but to love you. And I woudlnt want it any other way Your love is my window into a understand Gods love. You love me beyond time, but I do have a foolish heart, So I rush to make the most of our time, I rage at its passing, grief chokes me, when I think of losing you.

Tears well up without warning I am jolted awake by the thought of time slipping away and fall asleep wondering how long we have left, Sunrises are sombre, and sunsets are solemn. It is I know only human to mourn you.

I desperately want to e more than human, so that I dont have to live with the fear of losing a cornerstone in my life.

This feeling will never leave me, I feel i will be hollowed out by your absence, but I trust that with time, I will understand why my heart must endure this. May God mend my foolish breaking heart Goodbye mummy.