Waves of time have passed since the day you breathed your last. Truly, I don’t know much about you. Nevertheless, I can’t hold myself from writing this letter. I hope angels read them to your ears much softer.
Earlier, before I saw you on that very Wednesday evening in your living room on a wheelchair, my Mom told me of your sickness. But in all fairness, your posture was filled with youth, innocence, and mildness. Your time on earth was short, though in a body that’s imperfect in illness. But a celestial body you now possess in righteousness.
Oh, how a celestial white dress would look on you? Miss Worlds will be filled with envy to see you in your celestial elegance. My spirit groans for the beholding of your shining countenance.
I didn’t know that those times would be my last to ever see you. That I wouldn’t be able to call Precious (your sister) and ask of Vic. That I wouldn’t see you watch Zee World on TV. The news of your death made me pale.
I’m happy you’re before God, bowing to His throne. The day you died, Heaven had a new resident. Your lameness made you glued to a chair, but now you’ll be in a state of cheer.
If there’s one thing I’d have asked from you, it’d be a big hug. But I can’t get it anymore... Oh, I’ve got one last chance. When I meet you in Heaven, you would welcome me with my well-anticipated big hug.
LOVE YOU, VIC.