Around 6:30 am eastern , my god mother called me to tell me about her visit with you. She said that you were laying asleep but you motioned as if you felt her presence. She said she sat with you for awhile… We laughed and talked about you. The more we did the more I felt an urge to call my dad to tell him to call me when he went to see you. I had to let you know that I’d be performing in my first open mic the next day. I felt so hopeful that you were going to pull through–despite the conference call we had the weekend before.

I walked into work like usual and started my day. Until that text message crossed my phone “Grandma died”. It hit me like a ton of bricks…she couldn’t have. When? Why didn’t anyone tell me? I hurried to call the sender to see if it was a joke, but the punch line never came. I couldn’t breathe, all I could do was call my mom to tell her the news. Sitting at my desk, tears began to fall down my face. They told me at 5:30am central time you took your final breathe, the same time my god mother and I were conversing about you…

Phone calls, text messages, and social media post illuminated my phone with condolences–I couldn’t handle it. It made it all so real. It solidified that on that Tuesday, April 14, 2015, I lost the one person I talked to about everything. The one person who believed in me more than I believed in myself.

I tried to mask the pain by staying busy and staying strong for my grandpa and dad, but the more I tried the more I failed. I felt guilty. I felt as if it was because of me you died. I constantly prayed that God would remove your pain and that you would get some rest–since you always complained about not getting any sleep. I felt guilty because my prayer was answered. That guilt consumed me. I would lash out and seclude myself because I couldn’t handle the grieve. I couldn’t let anyone comfort me. I only wanted you. I wanted to hear your voice again. I wanted to smell your perfume, and taste your good food. I wanted your embrace.

A year has passed and the pain isn’t as heavy to bear, but I still miss you all the same. I miss our laughs and jokes, I miss hearing you ask about my friends and family. I’m going to miss our summer visits and our plans to do something wild and crazy…

I am forever going to miss you…

Love,

Your baby girl