Dear Grace Nyambura,

I miss you so much; your smile, laughter and personality that filled a room. I miss your playful heart that never feared, never worried. I recall fondly your love for the arts and how you’d stage skits in the living room for all the family to see. Home videos remind me of the fire of passion that burnt in your eyes. Fingers dipped in paint and face lit with excitement for creating beautiful pieces of art. Such a happy little girl that wasn’t afraid to love. I want my girl back!

Sorry that I let you go, I didn’t know how to take care of you, no one taught me how. Many changes were happening at the same time; your body didn’t look the same and moving house for the 6th time while preparing to go to high school with the big girls wasn’t an easy adjustment. The 7th move seemed like the final blow till that Sunday afternoon bulletin which changed everything-Beatrice Marshall in a red suit, and she says small sis is gone! A shock wave ripped through the family and I saw you smile for the last time.

The living room you once danced in is now filled with unfamiliar faces, pain and tears, lots of tears. This is the first time seeing Dad cry and Mum’s eyes are filled with indescribably pain. Run girl, run!!! I heard my fear say! You never have to feel this pain and loss again-if you don't love you don't hurt! Run and hide.
I didn’t know what else to do but kick you out so in your small suitcase I packed everything that had your name. For a long time I didn’t want to hear your name, it angered me because Grace is a name of someone radiating light. Nyambura was more befitting a name, because a cloud of rain “bura” seemed to follow me around. Folded neatly together were my broken heart, joy, peace, laughter and passions. I didn’t need any of those things anymore. Hidden far away in your suitcase, my heart cannot be broken anymore I thought. After you left I run away and got lost in the crowd, hurt and confused I hid behind a mask.

I thought about you a lot but it was too much to bear so I kept myself busy during the day. Sometimes I missed you but was afraid to look for you in the dark; I know that’s where you are hiding, because I can hear you crying, scared and alone wanting to come home. Tormented I drowned you out with alcohol and drugs. I walked aimlessly for 6 years avoiding anything that reminded me of you; the happy daughter, loving sister and devoted friend.

I am now a grown woman with 30 years’ experience under my belt. I want you to come back home, I can take care of you now. The darkness has receded and so much good has happened in the past 10 years. Mum and Dad have been asking about you, and your elder brother and sister think you’re ready to show the world just what you’re made of; they remember better than you the spark of genius and light you shine. I will be so happy to introduce you around; many friends don’t know who you are or the depth of emotion you’re capable of. You don’t have to cry alone anymore, you have people around you that love you unconditionally. It’s okay to ask for help, you are not alone in this.

I have made all your travel arrangements, leave the suitcase behind I got a new heart and it came with its own joy, peace, laughter and passions. It has been 4 years since the surgery and things are looking good, they tell me the donor is a man from Nazareth. His flesh and blood is a perfect match and He loved me so much He died so that I can live. It is time to come home, I want my girl back.

See you soon!

Love always,

Grace Nyambura.

Previous Next