My heart constantly feels this indescribable deep seated pain. Don’t tell me to take it easy, because it’s not easy. Don’t tell me God understands and knows best, because I don’t understand, neither do I know why. But then again that’s why He’s God and we are mere mortals, always lacking in our understanding of His ways. Mummy, I know that you are heaven (and that might be all I get to know for now) because you “knew where you were going”. While you were with us mummy, you taught us to love God and our fellow men. And you didn’t only teach, you showed us how in the way you lived your life. You held unto life, regardless of the pain you went through, for as long as you could because you didn’t want to make us sad, you wanted to stay on for us. You sacrificed in every way you could so that peace would reign. You didn’t owe anyone anything; not even love. Mummy, you left a vacuum but you also gave us an honourable legacy; tools with which we will daily fill the vacuum. I would never call you again anytime I’m ill, just so you can pray with me. Your grandchildren will never struggle for which bed grandma will sleep on when she comes to Enugu – boys’ or girls’. Mummy, you must find death to be gain - for rather than sting; it has taken you to everlasting life, peace, rest and joy; to the presence of your Father, and to Jesus your friend. While we mourn this early and heartbreaking departure, I take comfort in knowing that you will never feel pain again – not physical, not emotional, not spiritual - absolutely no pain. You will never be forgotten mummy, for your memory is filled with blessings. I bid you farewell mummy. Worship on with the saints daughter of Zion, heaven’s royalty, Ada Jesus, crowned with the glory of God, my mother, my friend, my role model. Your daughter, Chinyere