The life of we mortals is like grass, we flourish like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and is gone. Dearest friend, you had gone to meet your lover and I know the angelic hosts are rejoicing in heaven welcoming you home faithful daughter, you had won the race and the grown of glory. We love you but God loves you more, you've left a big hole in our hearts, you will be dearly miss. Sure ooo mummy bukky. Tope Famakinwa