TGIF: A TRIBUTE

“The path i walk lights up in flames”  ― Roberta Karim

Source: Pinterest

 A TRIBUTE...

I could light one million candles,
I could say one million prayers,
One million red roses,
Wouldn't be enough..
Wouldn't match up to the legacy of love you have left behind.
You could be as bold a lion,
Or as meek as a lamb,
Yet you were balanced so perfectly.
God made you a lover,
And Love you gave,
To your family, friends and everyone who crossed your path..
Your candle will continually burn in the eyes of your children..
The path you walked is lit up in flames,
Rest In Perfect Peace Nana Cherop.. 

A TRIBUTE: LETTER TO MY DAUGHTER

“You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anybody.”
― Maya Angelou

source: google images

Dear Daughter,

This letter has taken an extraordinary time getting itself together. I have all along known that I wanted to tell you directly of some lessons I have learned and under what conditions I have learned them. My life has been long, and believing that life loves the liver of it, I have dared to try many things, sometimes trembling, but daring, still.

There have been people in my life who meant me well, taught me valuable lessons, and others who have meant me ill, and have given me ample notification that my world is not meant to be all peaches and cream.

I have made many mistakes and no doubt will make more before I die. When I have seen pain, when I have found that my ineptness has caused displeasure, I have learned to accept my responsibility and to forgive myself first, then to apologize to anyone injured by my misreckoning. Since I cannot un-live history, and repentance is all I can offer God, I have hopes that my sincere apologies were accepted.

  You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them. Try to be a rainbow in someone’s cloud. Do not complain. Make every effort to change things you do not like. If you cannot make a change, change the way you have been thinking. You might find a new solution.

 Never whine. Whining lets a brute know that a victim is in the neighborhood.

  Be certain that you do not die without having done something wonderful for humanity.

     I gave birth to one child, a son, but I have thousands of daughters. You are Black and White, Jewish and Muslim, Asian, Spanish-speaking, Native American and Aleut. You are fat and thin and pretty and plain, gay and straight, educated and unlettered, and I am speaking to you all. Here is my offering to you.

 Source: www.goddessshift.com/Maya_Angelou.pdf

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Dear Miss Maya,

I got your letter a few years back.
I laughed and cried and walked a mile in your shoes.
You told your stories so well with such honesty and openness.
Your grandmother was a true woman of God.
I liked how your father handled your pregnancy news. I wish fathers such courage for their daughters.
I loved your free spirit, your music days and how you learnt Spanish.
I loved your trip to Ghana and Morocco and how they honored you with a drink, you thought was a prank and even worse, you thought the dates in the drink were roaches?! you vomited your guts out! *that was funny*
You were invited to the big important dinner and because of cultural differences, you walked all over what you thought was a rug, but it was actually the table to be used for setting up the dinner. I truly felt that cringe moment too.
I loved your days with Martin Luther and the civil rights movement.  You school days in the all “white” girls school. I was inspired.

I loved your dedication and love for your son. You quit the stage took a flight and a ship all the way back to New York because he was the most important thing.
The old lady who owned the building you were living in with your son, who ALWAYS volunteered to make you dinner even though she was a terrible cook. *that was funny too* I could imagine you and your son making faces at each other.
I loved your mother’s sense of style, her big house and her red rice! I admired your dedication and discipline. I loved how you would NEVER EVER ask your mother to help you out even when you truly needed it. You were a grown woman, it was your responsibility.
I remember when you slipped into some sort of depression; you broke down in front of your friend. He gave you a yellow notebook and asked you to write something nice about yourself.  Yellow notebooks have never been the same again.
Every time I saw a yellow notebook, I remembered your friend. I remembered you. I remembered something good about myself.
You told your story on abuse and how that young man almost beat the life out of you. I felt sorry for you but mostly for him. He was delusional and sick. Your mother rushed to your rescue like wonder woman. Both your courage and hers heroic.

Thank You Miss Maya.

Peps.
(daughter)

TRUE LOVE: A TRIBUTE.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close. —Pablo Neruda

The story of Mbugua and Rosemary (Rosie) struck a cord in my spirit.
Before the West Gate Mall massacre i did not know them.
On the day the gunmen struck, they had gone to check out and perhaps purchase wedding rings.
They had announced their intentions to wed a month and half before the tragedy hit.
They were young, happy, deeply in-love,with their futures so bright, they wouldn't need light. and clearly from their tribute page , quite a match. 
Reports have it, that at the time the shooting started, Mbugua was outside of the mall. Upon realizing Rosie was still inside, he went back to get her. He found her.
Standing side by side, they were now facing one of the gun men face to face.
Instinctively, Mbugua reached over and shielded his fiancee.
The unknown gun man sprayed bullets. Eight of them hit Mbugua, Rosie was hit as well. (Rest in eternal peace.) I think about Mbugua and how much Love he had for Rosie.

I do not know how many men or women would do that  for their better half? two words come to mind ... TRUE LOVE! Only LOVE could trigger such a selfless act. only LOVE!
I think about Rosie too. In those last moments, she knew she was loved beyond a shadow of a doubt. Mbugua loved her beyond reproach. Beyond fear of the danger they were facing.

And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make. - Paul McCartney

Many more stories have been shared after the tragedy. Many have lost loved ones. It is devastating!
But, through LOVE we shall overcome.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.  And now   these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”                                     1 Corinthians 13:4-13  

I am counting the blessing of LOVE, because it reminds us everyday that even in our imperfections, even in our sorrows, even in the midst of tragedy, even in the space of time, it reminds us there is a God.
For without LOVE, we are nothing but terrorists.