I miss you more than you'll ever know...I've tried writing this a couple of times, but I don't know what i'm supposed to say.I guess it's time to just tell the story. The story through my eyes. Even if you were there for the most part.Maybe this is what I need. Maybe this will help me miss you less.
I guess I will start from the beginning.
Life used to be good. I lived with my parents and my brother Isaro. We lived in a village in Byumba, Rwanda. We lived a simple life, but it was more than enough.
My father was incharge of cattle and worked all day.
My mother crafted and made jewelry to sell. She spent most of her time at the studio with other women.