Hi my name is
Nah that’s way too formal.

Hey wassup it’s ya girl
What am I a radio personality?

Hi. I’m LaShae.

Wait. Yeah that
That feels comfortable.

Hi. I’m LaShae.
La like the note
Shae like the butter.
And I’m
. . .
Blank

God says,
I am that I am
But if I said it
Would it be blasphemous?
Even if I am?
Because I am that I am
And
I am Joy.
I am Smile.
Brittany said it was creepy
That I smiled so much
But Brittany didn’t know
I hurt the same ways she did.
She didn’t know my smile
Was as much a resistance
As it was for her to get out of bed some mornings
She didn’t know
I kept my smile because
Tracy loved my smile.
Tracy loved my smile!
She said it was the most genuine smile she’s ever seen
Which is the best compliment
Because her smile
Was the most genuine I’ve ever seen.

I am peace
Except when I am hungry
And I am always hungry
Beware of Junior’s warning
You better feed that gal;
I am gal.
As sister says,
When hungry,
I am Hulk;
I am pitbull.
Ya girl just likes to eat
But when I am fed,
I promise
I will be peace
Like Mable taught me to be
Peace:
Not the absence of violence,
But the presence of Justice.
So if no Justice
No peace.
I am starving
Pitbull for peace
Ready to Hulk smash oppression
See, Mable
Mable was a child
When Newark went up in flames
See
You don’t watch your home go ablaze
And end up staying the same
No
You arm yourself
Yes, with the whole armor of God
Like your mother taught you
But also
With a thicker skin
That none of this heat can penetrate
And with a weapon
She chose a pen
Much mightier than a sword
Her ink writing for peace
Not the absence of violence
But the presence of Justice
Her ink filled with the blood spilled in her streets
And then she would come to teach
All the little children, and yes, even me
That the power is in connections
That is what Mable taught to me.

Barbara taught me to hold my own.
Pete told me Fret Not
But Pray if you feel alone
Latierra and Ricky
Both taught me to wonder
And Serena taught me
That dancing is greater than pain
Ali taught me God will find you
Even if you’re in the dark.
I never met Maurice,
But his love is always in my heart.
Ulysses taught me always learn first
And Davey taught me to dress my best
Even when they do their worst
Ron & Vette taught me to be loud
Lisa and Al taught me love knows no bounds
Dog taught me to keep my friends close
Mo taught me that royalty
Can come from a crack that bloomed a rose
And Holis, God rest his soul,
May not be blood
But taught me what a man ought to be

I know you asked about me
But I am an unfinished story
The moral of my life
Isn’t complete
But I am that I am
And I am pieces of
Every person I ever lost
A puzzle
Amassing to one lone thought:
Love.

GRIEF
By. Kristina Gregson
Grief is a hard feeling to explain.
One does not truly know what to expect, until they are actually going through the pain.
The pain in the pit of your inner being.
The ache in your heart, feels like it could stop beating.
Your whole body aches with pain, leaving one feeling so drained.
Right down to the blood that flows through your veins.
A hurt, an ache, that can only be described as deep deep sorrow.
One that you know you will still have when you wake tomorrow.
The feeling of loss, the wish I would haves,
The wish I could haves, the wish I should haves,
That feeling of so much wasted time, that could have been spent with better rhythm and rhyme.
More smilies, more hugs, more laughter, more love.
More calls, more talks, maybe even a walk,
More dinners together, more special times.
That is what you wish when your loved one has ran out of time.

The devil showed up today.
Begging for me to slip.
Begging for an invite to myyy show.
Then I thought well shiit
Maybe we should make friends with not only him but our skeletons as well!
You know….the ones inside our closet
We could dance with them, learn their names, perhaps become friends!?
Then we might build the courage
to ask them to leave But at that point
We can’t ignore the demons.
Yea the ones deep inside.
In Matter of fact
Let’s invite them to coffee or even cocktails. We can discuss hard questions
liike what keeps them here!?
In the mean time we can play hide n seek with the ghosts or jahooties that like to play supernatural jokes on us!?
We can’t let them miss out on the fun
Let’s not forget the boogie man cuz you know he’s probably the most well known
and he might be the one
to call out everyone’s insecurities
Fk it we gotta call up the monsters
whether they’re hiding under our bed
or in the depths of the shadows around you.
We can maybe admit our fears or possibly conquer them by convincing ourselves we aren’t even scared in the first place.
What does a monster look like to you ?!
Is it a thing or an illusion is it human form
or animal like or maybe it’s just a concept
or a feeling?
Sounds like We gonna have a whole damn party after all these invites.
The devil himself, the skeletons, the demons, the ghosts n jahooties and the boogie man pluuuus the monsters.
Or maybe….
that’s not even a party worth hosting.
I heard of a better party
it’s thrown by joy and happiness
and their friends cheer and bliss
I bet that party has better company
we better be cautious of what invites we send out and choose wisely to what party we gonna show up to and host!!

Dear Grandpa,
It’s been 11 years snice you’ve gone. I can still remember the night being so peaceful, so still, and so cold. I remember the day we laid you to rest. The snowflakes that fell that day were the biggest ones I’ve ever seen. I wanted to be one of the few who go to carry you to your final resting place, but I watched instead as my brother, cousin, brother in law, and a few others carried you instead.

I’ll never forget when my 18th birthday rolled around and I eagerly went to the gas station and bought a can of your grizzly wintergreen chewing tobacco. I took it to you grave and had lunch with you. The sun was shining and I was happy enough even though you weren’t with me anymore.

You were my best friend. The amount of days I skipped school just to hang out with you nearly cost me my graduation. The people at school frowned upon the week I missed when you passed. Said I shouldn’t have been gone that long and that I needed to be there from then on. What was I supposed to say? Grief has no time limit and I wasn’t capable of dragging myself out of bed to go be around people who never understood me. You always did though.

I wonder what you would think of me now. Would you still be proud of me? Would you still be able to sit in silence with me and just watch the tv? Would you still be able to look me in the eyes and tell me everything was going to be ok? You were my safe place in this world and even though it has been 11 years my heart still hurts. I yearn to hear your laugh, see your smile, and feel the warmth of your hugs.

I love and miss you so much, Grandpa.

Mikaela Lauren Tick,

March 7th is your birthday. I was planning to post this on the 6th, as it would fit the theme… premature, or just because this is so hard to get through that I wanted to do it early.

Then again, it is the 6th in California, where my sister lives – who is due to give birth on the 9th.

So, who knows, she can be getting contractions as I write this! .

Hello future Weber,

For future comparison, please note: the line below details what time this sentence was written:
Sentence was completed at 9:33 pm 3.6.24 (PST)

I will see you soon!

Love,

Uncle Jakey💜

Anyway, back to the premature thing.

MLT YOU💜 ME because I was born prematurely at 1lbs 13 oz, giving me cerebral palsy – It feels really weird to be talking about myself in YOUR bday card, CONVENIENTLY weird!

Your favorite thing to do was to ASK me how I was doing and there to share all the moments with me🥲

Alright, let us get back to MYSELF🤔 I think that would make everyone happy😂

In all seriousness, you ARE at your HAPPIEST when the attention is on others. I’ll take it and run!

Our relationship iS STILL as close as ever!

I may not be able to physically hug you, but I know YOU ARE STILL HERE because I see the signs:

Whether it’s with family or things that I do, I do NOT doubt that you did not have anything to do with Lexi, finding a Jeffrey, Ryan finding a Pamela (I’m a little upset with that one because there is only one Pamela Tick, but that’s ok, Pamela’s maiden name is Katz (like Nanny Sheila’s)!

Me:
The Unsealed with LAUREN, my psychologist —who has a disability, and lost a cousin, my best friend, Mack, who I met at a special Olympics event!

In these ways, YOU ARE IMPACTING EVERYONE, ESPECIALLY ME, SHOWING ME, that love can be experienced by ANYONE, ANYWHERE, disability or not!

I would say, until we see each other next time, but I see you EVERYDAY!

Until I can give you a PHYSICAL HUG, sending all of them up into HEAVEN! That and a Black & White Cookie for Papa Donald!

I pray God send you back to me
I loved you before I knew you
I still love you
Stink-stink
My boo boo
I will always love you
You would have been 7 years old
Some friends tell me Happy mothers day
I smile to cover up the pain that’s inside of me
It’s hard for me to open up to explain to others what happened
I wish I knew what you would have looked like
Still wonder if you were going to be a baby boy “Legend”
Or a “Diamond” princess
I wish I knew your favorite toy
Your favorite cartoon
favorite food
favorite fruit
favorite veggie
favorite ice cream
favorite hobby
favorite color
favorite book
I know uncle Jimmy would have been your favorite uncle
Sherice & Klanice your favorite twin aunties
All I wanted was the best for you
Lead you in the right direction
I wanted you to have a father
That knew the definition of being a father
And act on it
I was so happy when I confirmed I was due 3/30/2017
But I was scared too
So I sat down and thought everything through
I rather have a child by a real man with father experience
Even with no father experience but is ready and willing to sacrifice
And do everything he can to make sure his child is well taken care of
And I was guaranteed to have a real man that had my back one hundred percent
Then I would have never had any doubts
I still look at my ultrasound picture
My body freezes up looking at my seed I was carrying
Small thing you
Sometimes as I sit and write
But yet my kid not hugging or kissing me
Or saying, “mommy I love you”
I feel so empty inside
The sorrow is so heavy
So deep
I pray God
Bring me back my princess or prince
Beautiful
Handsome
Healthy and all.

My little angel 😇 💛

A NOTE FROM GRANDMA SOLETA
TO LUJUANA MY BEAUTIFUL GRANDDAUGHTER
This is a fictional story. Any representation of situations or real characters is unintentional. My grandma did visit me after her death. I have spoken with spirits and decided to dedicate this story to all grandmas, moms, and their granddaughters, and women everywhere. We are beautiful. Peace to all. To all my relations.

Dear Lujuana,
We are not promised roses without thorns nor rainbows without rainstorms.
I miss you so much. I am in the light now but was granted temporary leave to write you this letter. You are an incredibly talented and beautiful woman. You lost your creativity for a moment in time, but you will soon receive all the talent and creativity back that a few people who wished you back luck had put a spell on you wishing you homeless, and in dire poverty so they could convince everything and everyone that you are a bad hombre. They lied about you to your friends and acquaintances. The ex-lover wanted to destroy you as a human being out of revenge and hate. In his opinion if you did not want him then you were on drugs and seriously dumb to not have stayed with his lying narcissistic personality. The rejected lover wanted to hurt you and throw you into the dark night of the soul forever, but you, my beautiful granddaughter, did not succumb to their threats of hate and evil intentions to destroy you as a human being. Your ex-lover vowed to destroy you so you would never find love again. He and his cronies laughed at you throwing stones through words and gossip to anyone they encountered to hurt you so deeply hoping you would die or live in darkness, but you, Lujuana, are a child of the Universe. You are surrounded by light and angels.
However, my sweet Lujuana I was allowed to send you guides to watch over you and protect you from his evil intentions to destroy you as a human being.
I want to let you know I love you so much. I know you have had too many broken relationships by wrongdoing men. Even though you are old now, age 74, it is not too late to have a special relationship with an artistic, creative man. I know you say it must be a miracle music man to stroke your breasts and kiss your lips. So, my dear Lujuana you will meet your mystery man like a bump in the night.
I have permission to continue to watch over you by hiring your spirit guides to always be around you to keep you safe.
I am watching you write, create art, and grow into your peace and light and love position as a human being. There are many stories you can write to help others with your stories of fiction, non-fiction, poetry, and photography. Even your little stick figure drawings and your flower drawings are a part of your many gifts given from the Universe.
I wanted to stop by to deliver this message of love, peace, and light. I wish we could text each other as you do your friends in 2024. Despite this I will always be by your side to guide you. Your pop says hi and to let you know that no matter how old you get you are still his baby girl. Your mom, my daughter, has gone into the light and moved on as a reincarnated soul to learn lessons. She loved you very much but died young at age 65 and must reincarnate with her soul into another human body.
I love you my dear Lujuana, and you are protected from all evil intentions of an ex-partner that wished you harm. I know you know that the ex-partner truly kept all your photos to create a dark aura around your life not wanting you to succeed in your career. They no longer have power over your life.
May God, the Universe guide you to be the strong warrior you are to fight for equality for all, LBGTQ rights, women’s rights, gun control, peace, love, light, and understanding.
Be thankful, pray, create roses with and without thorns.
Love,

Grandma Soleta
January 30, 2024
This is a fictional story. Any representation of situations or real characters is unintentional. My grandma did visit me after her death. I have spoken with spirits and decided to dedicate this story to all grandmas and their granddaughters. Peace to all. To all my relations.

Pure determination and new promises packed along with
her black t-shirt that boldly said, “Laugh More, Bitch Less.”
She was grit, she was fierce.
She wasn’t afraid to travel in an RV with her new boyfriend,
landing in Montana mountains as a young black beautiful woman -hiking on flat trails where chokecherries partied near creeks , dealing with strong winds that chapped her cheeks, and witnessing how the snow packed and spread over the land, emphasizing the mountain tops.
She was cascading to her new dreams, her first brave trip out of the family nest.
she shimmered, she shined.
if you were lucky enough to see her smile – unforgettable like Natalee and Nat King Cole singing.
that is why WHEN she went missing –
no cellphone life, no social media snapchats, we knew something was wrong .
So, us, her siblings/besties put on the song Fugees –“ Gonna Find You”
We went.

Missing women.
Missing men.
Missing kids.
MISSING YOU.
WE FOUND YOU.
MURDERED.

Pure determination, pure promises.
Shimmer and Shine.

My dear,
My beautiful one.
Oh, how I wish to feel your touch again.
To hear your sigh as you pass through the door.
To look, just once more, into your crystal eyes.
Oh, how I wish that I didn’t have to wish.

December 2, 2012. I remember this day all too well, and December 3, 2012, which is strange because I don’t remember most of my life. These two days however, are clear, vivid, like watching a movie in IMAX. A movie that haunts me to this very day.

Let’s start with December 2. Abby and I were at Granny’s. It was a Sunday afternoon, the phone rang. It was you. Mama was just arriving at Granny’s to pick us up and take us back home with her. I remember Granny asking if I wanted to talk to you, I did not. I was handed the phone, but I had nothing to say to you. I was hurt, angry, and sad. I told you I was mad at you. Mad because you left once again to go raise a child who wasn’t even your own. You left me. You left us. You said you’d be coming home for Christmas, I was happy about that, excited even. I have always been a Daddy’s girl, all I wanted was my Daddy home. Since I didn’t want to talk to you, you asked to talk to Mama. I walked the phone out to her and let y’all talk. I remember Mama smiling and laughing while speaking with you. I later found out you had asked her to marry you again. She loved you, and truthfully now looking back, she would have married you again in a heartbeat. After y’all got off the phone, Abby and I loaded up in the car with Mama and headed home. The entire ride home I was still mad, but also very excited because in a few short weeks I’d get to see you again. So I thought anyway.

December 3, 2012. Monday morning, I was awoken with my phone being taken away. I had no idea what I had done wrong for my phone to be taken, I was very confused. Mama looked like she had been crying all night. Her eyes were swollen and red. She couldn’t tell me why she took my phone from me, so being the teenager that I was, of course I was irritated. I asked her what was wrong, she said she had a toothache all night and didn’t get any sleep. I got ready for school like it was a normal day. I remember I was wearing hot pink pants, a black shirt, and black boots. We left home, the same time as usual, like we were headed to school. I would have never guessed the horrors that awaited us. We stopped at Nana’s, this was unusual, especially since we were going to be late for school at this point. I remember being so agitated because not only do I not have my phone, now I’m going to be late for school. After Nana’s, we stopped at Granny’s. Immediately I knew something was wrong. Aunt Sam’s car was in the driveway, she lived in Kentucky at this time so why was she there? Granny was sitting on the porch in her pajamas, housecoat, and slippers. We got out of the car, and Granny’s face looked just like Mama’s. Eyes red and swollen like she’d been crying all night. Now I am aware this is not another toothache. It was never a toothache.

Granny tells us to go in and sit on her bed. Abby and I do as were told, we sit on the end of her bed. Granny then proceeds to kneel down in front of us, touching the both of us with her hands, and says, “Your Daddy was in an accident, and he didn’t make it.” I finally understand why my phone was taken, why everyone’s eyes were red and swollen, why everything that morning was a bit off. My world just went black. My heart shattered. Everything inside me died that day. That is the first time I ever had thoughts of suicide. Fourteen years old, and my Daddy had died. I didn’t even get to tell him goodbye. He died thinking that I hated him. I did not get to tell him I loved him, I missed him, I just wanted him to come home. I refused to speak to him when I had the chance just hours before he departed from this world. He died not knowing how much he meant to me. After we were told of the tragedy that occurred, we had to go home and pack our bags. We were going to Illinois. The bags were packed and we headed back to Granny’s, but now Papa was home too. A sound that I will never forget, is the sound of a grown man I have never seen shed one single tear, screaming, sobbing, and wailing. The sound of him mourning his son was loud enough to hear from outside of the house. To this day I can still hear his cries.

The week following your death is a blur. I remember key moments. I remember Aunt Sam nearly killing us trying to drive to the court house. You were actually going to court to see if the child you left Tennessee for was yours. I remember staying at Silly Willy’s and everyone went to view your body, but we were not allowed to go. I remember them talking about your body being “mangled”. I remember sitting at Silly Willy’s kitchen table trying to help pick songs to play at your funeral. I remember going to pick out your casket. I remember picking out your favorite cologne to spray on you. I remember when we had your visitation in Illinois and we were the first to view you. I remember not being able to walk down the aisle, nearly falling to my knees, sobbing my eyes out. That could not be MY Daddy laying in this casket. No. Not mine. But it was. Thankfully, Aunt Sam was there to pick me up and help me walk. I remember finally leaving, and Mama was the last person to say goodbye to you. We all gave her privacy. I remember going out to eat with everyone afterward and we all took a picture with the signature Billy Gray middle finger.

We brought you back home to Tennessee, in the bed of Papa’s truck. I remember riding behind it and still not believing that you were in that casket, you were really gone. I remember burying you, six feet in the ground. You were home for Christmas that year, just not the way I had expected. I remember everything, and sometimes, I wish I didn’t.

Since you’ve been gone, it does feel like the world has stopped spinning. I died that day and I don’t think I have ever come back to life yet. In fact, everyone died. A piece of every single one of us died on December 2, 2012. Some have handled your death better than others, but nonetheless, not one of us is okay. You do not expect to bury your father as a teenager. A parent does not expect to bury their child. Siblings do not expect to bury their sibling at such a young age. Especially, when you’re completely blindsided by it.

I always sit and wonder about the “what if’s”. What if you were still alive? Would things be as bad as they are? Would I be the way that I am? Would our family be as dysfunctional as it is now? The “what if’s” and “why’s” will eat you alive if you’re not careful. I have had my fair share of being eaten alive by them. I have had to accept that I cannot change what has happened, I cannot go back in time. I just have to believe you’re still here with me, believe that you know I love you and I always have, believe that you are in a better place.

You turned the last page of your book here on earth. I will cherish that book forever, hold it tightly in my soul. This December will mark 11 years, and I miss you more than I could ever put into words. I am still my Daddy’s little girl. I always will be. You were the first man I loved, and the first to break my heart. Unfortunately, grief never goes away, time does not fade the emotions and feelings. However, it is how you deal with the grief that is the key. Truth be told, I have not handled it very well. I have cursed God’s name, lost faith in everything, spiraled into destructive habits. Lots of times just HOPING it would in some sense bring me closer to you. I am now hoping one day my world will begin to spin again, maybe life will form in the parts of me that died. I will keep trying down here on earth, remember your legacy, for I am just as hard headed and stubborn as you. In the meantime, it is what it is. I will take it day by day until we meet again. When that day comes, be prepared for a fight because you left me down here without you, tears, laughter, and most of all an abundance of love. I will never let you go.

Your little girl,

Dear Unsealers,

I wrote this poem as an homage to our ancestors, when spirituality came before organized religion, when we viewed the world with wonder, and when we longed for understanding of life and death:

Primitivo

I worship the Sun

And his daughter, the Moon

I pray to the sky; morn, evening, and noon

The stars I will use as my guide and my light

To honor my ancestors throughout the night

And I pray to the gods of the wind and the rain

For peace and strength and no more of the pain

For my mother, the Earth, and my father, the Sea

Gave life and birth for me to be

The son of comets and shooting stars

My brothers Venus, Earth, and Mars

Watch over me as I wake and rest

And live my life as I do best

For when my body returns to clay

The stars will cradle me, and there I’ll stay

Have you ever had the pleasure of falling in love with someone you’ve never met?

It’s almost as if you have an immediate connection,
Your souls are fused together.
The pull of uncertain, certainty.
You feel everything all at once.
Your soul is content and full.
You’ve become a glutton for the love
It feels so good!
Theres butterflies signifying this spectacular moment in the timeline.

Have you ever had the pleasure of a heartbreak over someone you’ve never met?

They say the worst withdrawal is of a person.
I must say, “I agree.”
It’s almost as if you have lost a real piece of your soul
You have no autonomy over your
heart.
You crave, cry, and hate all within a
minute.
You mourn someone you’ve never even
met.

Have you ever had the pleasure of healing after a heartbreak over someone you’ve you’ve never met?

It’s almost as if you are whole again.
You carefully put each piece of your
shattered heart together
Hand gluing, welding, stitching,
and crafting it into your newest
artistry.
Looking at your newest master piece
You’re feel of all of the happy, joyful
memories you chose to keep
You’re reminded of the pain and
mourning that led to
You, whole,new & ready to love.

I dedicate this poem to Gary and Morgan, loving partners for over 40 beautiful years. This month Gary passed away after a year long struggle with cancer, days before Morgan’s birthday and their anniversary. During his final moments, Gary only had the strength to whisper priceless words of encouragement and love to Morgan. This is a poem of hope that we will all meet again, someday, somewhere beyond this life. But in the meantime, we’ll find each other in…

WHISPERS

You’ll come to me in whispers

And you’ll visit me in dreams

I’ll awaken from your kisses

Softly lit by radiant beams

In the echos of my life

I will catch your sweetest voice

I will hear our love’s pure song

And my heart will then rejoice

I will strain my tired ear

For each whisper that you gift

As I listen most intently

In our memories I will drift

And one day your gentle whispers

Will be louder and quite clear

We’ll be standing face to face

And our love song all will hear

Please bear with me as this is something that I’ve been wanting to do & finally got the courage to do so a freestyle fiction story that has been on my mind.

A child’s core memories develop at 5. Her core memories were not like others. Her core memory was waking up from her sleep as she was in the backseat of a car covered with her dad’s jacket while he was speeding on the freeway. She felt safe seeing her dad and went back to sleep as he told her to do.

She wasn’t going to school, but she went from home to home thinking about what a great time she was having with her dad. She went with the stepmom to be with her siblings. She doesn’t recall how she spent her time there but just the vhs movie that the stepmom threw away. Once dad picked her up, he noticed she was sad. Since her dad asked her what happened, she did just that. Dad said, “Wait in the car. I’ll be right back.” She just knew that her dad was going to take care of it. In her world full of chaos, all she can do was observe. When it felt like she was all, alone she realized that she was always guided and protected.

She went with another stepmom who was just a sweet and caring soul. She treated her right, and she knew, being in her presence, that everything would be just fine.

Dear Unsealers,

Today I held the hand of a dying friend. We looked into each other’s eyes and I said the only thing I could say at that moment…”I love you”. Too weak to speak, he closed his eyes, puckered his tired lips, and blew me a kiss. I caught it and will carry it with me for the rest of my life.

*This summer my friend challenged me to write something based off of paint color names. I did it once and liked the result, so I had to do it again. I had my mom choose 5 different paint color swatches at a hardware store and then wrote this. While some details in this letter have been changed (to fit the prompt) I believe this does encapsulate the beautiful spirit of my deceased godmother so I dedicate this to her.
____________________________________________________________________________
I miss you

I miss the way you used to romanticize life

And filled it with special moments

What a blessing it was to watch you relishing in every moment you were here.

With hospitality you would set out fancy china, brew coffee and fill a carafe with heavy cream just for me

The way you would belly laugh when we got caught in a downpour and arrived home sopping wet.

The few sacred moments we spent together in the morning where you would put my hair in a ponytail and smile warmly at me.

The way you would kiss me on the forehead and your cloudberry clad lips would imprint themselves there as a reminder of the deep love you had for me.

The way you would strategically place the tinsel on the Christmas tree so that it would glimmer in the darkness.

Your enthusiasm for life was what made you so beautiful.

And it is a piece of you that shines in the mosaic of pieces that make up me.

One day I will have my own goddaughter and I hope my wonder and enthusiasm for life

Will shine as deeply in her as yours does in me.

With Love,

In the realm of politics, they stood so tall,
A mentor, a friend, guiding us all.
Their wisdom and passion, a beacon of light,
Inspiring us to fight for what’s right.

But fate had other plans, a tragic twist,
A car rollover accident, a life dismissed.
Yet their spirit lives on, in memories we keep,
Their legacy forever etched, in our hearts so deep.

They taught us to be bold, to stand up and speak,
To fight for justice, for the voices weak.
Their absence is felt, a void hard to fill,
But their impact on us, lingers still.

So let’s honor their memory, with every stride,
Carrying their torch, side by side.
Though they may be gone, their influence won’t cease,
For their spirit lives on, in our pursuit of peace.

When we talk about those we have lost it doesn’t have to mean someone has died physically, rather someone you have lost connection with or someone that decided to leave you mentally.
I chose this topic because this relationship that I no longer have with my mother has impacted me greatly in my life,
This was not my decision by any means but people have different reasons for things that they do.
I have not seen heard or talked to my mother in 27 years it seems like a travesty but in actuality it’s probably a good thing.
A little backstory:
My mother has always been into hard drugs as long as I can remember I remember crawling on the floor through needles in my diapers and I remember the (tax man) she called him coming to her house a couple times a week with a briefcase. God only knows what was in that briefcase. As I grew up I remember my mother getting taken out on a stretcher by the ambulance and police for what I have no idea I was probably about 6 years old, My mother had a lot of mental health issues along with the drug use, My grandmother ended up sectioning her a few times I can remember bringing her to the hospital and watching her fight, kick, punch and bite The orderlies it took five to assist in getting hurt tied down in the bed so she wouldn’t hurt anyone for herself anymore. Know that I’m grown and I look back at these instances on baffled at how a mother can let her child see and hear and witness all of these things at such a young age it breaks my heart but I’ve learned to cope. I don’t think you can ever cope fully to a situation like this flashbacks always happen for me I have PTSD and night terrors about things that used to happen I remember being woken up at 2:00 in the morning when I was 5 to be told that we had to get out of the house and go live somewhere else (We were living with my mother’s boyfriend at the time)
This happened on a number of occasions with different men. I went to a new school every year back and forth to my mom and dad’s never had a stable place.
I do feel bad for her she missed out on so much of her life as well as mine But I do not feel bad taking my sanity back and getting myself well. Like they say when you’re at the bottom of the barrel there’s no where else to go but up so you just got to keep trucking everybody has their own faults and decisions that they have to make. I do believe drugs obviously have a hand in all of this but I don’t believe that she didn’t have the option not to get involved with it those are our own decisions to make and the path we choose does impact others and to not think of it that way is selfish. For my sake in my kids sake I chose to break the ties with her she scares me And I don’t want my kids to ever feel like I did around her so they also have never met her. I feel like I want to miss her but I also feel like that’s letting my guard down and I’m so hyper-sensitive to not becoming her I know I’m not her and I know I don’t make these decisions that she makes and I know that I love my children and would never put them in harm’s way I just can’t wrap my head around The situation still I’m 41 years old now and I’m not involved in heavy drugs I do what I need to do to survive and I’ve got a pretty level-head on my shoulders so I guess I can thank her for that, but as for showing me how to be a mother I will take the credit for that
With all this in mind I guess the lesson learned is no one to walk away when you’re getting into deep your mental health is not worth it and the detrimental aftermath it does to everybody else
So again I’d like to say goodbye to my mother. that part of my life is over thank God.

*Disclaimer- There is reference to suicidal ideation- if you’re suffering please seek out help or call the suicide prevention hotline emergency number, 988.

Dear Angus,

I’m sorry this letter couldn’t make it to you. I know for certain that it does not find you well. If this letter could reach Heaven- I’d say “Sorry dude- I’ve never watched Euphoria.” I’d assume you’d think “fake fan.” LOL.

Your personal friends and family can attest to your attributes far better than me. So, I’ll just say this. When you took your life- it didn’t just hurt you. It hurt everyone who knew you, knew your name, and loved you. This letter is not to condemn your actions but to anyone who feels the same as you.

I don’t know the details surrounding your death (& don’t care to quite frankly) but I imagine you were quite scared, upset, and angry. The mind can play tricks on us in our low moments. Like saying that nothing even matters, what is there to live for now? For me, I try to counsel myself by saying this is all temporary. As in, “this too shall pass” (2 Corinthians 4:17).

My heart goes out to your Mom and close friends. May God rest your soul. You are gone but never forgotten! 🕊️

Sincerely,

Victoria