Archive for the ‘love’ Tag

The Eve Of The Anniversary Of When Time Stood Still: February 17, 2008   Leave a comment


People fear death even more than pain. It’s strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over. Yeah, I guess it is a friend. ~ Jim Morrison

Life is filled with options and decisions and we hope that we make the right choices at the right times. If wrong choices are made, we hope to learn from them and move on.

This is my story about cause, effect, regret and forgiving myself.

Mom, always said, “It’s you and me against the world.”

It was a dark and wintery night when the first call came in, probably around midnight.

The nurse called and stated stated …”she was having some problems and was calling the doctor to confirm placing her on an IV bag.”

 I should have jumped up that very minute. Not once in two months had they called me to tell me her status. I was half awake and half asleep…but that was no excuse. I didn’t rush down there to hold her hand. I didn’t get into the truck and speed over to the hospital to tell her I loved her.

I just rolled over and went back to sleep. Two hours and seventeen minutes later the phone rang. My heart sank.

The nurse on the other end said, “…there was nothing they could do…she was gone.”

I dropped the phone…speechless. I was hysterical…barely able to speak.

To say the words…my mother passed over. My friend, confidant, sometimes worst enemy yet, the one who taught me about life, strength, courage and love in her own way has left her earthly body.

The early morning brought bitterly cold wind with snow and ice on the ground. My lover and I dressed hurriedly or should say my partner did because I couldn’t stop the flow of tears and my knees buckled beneath me and I kept hitting the floor. I was picked up and held for a moment and then kissed gently several times. She was my rock at that moment and I had no idea. After I was dressed we went outside and she walked next to me holding my hand. As we staggered across that blanket of winter to the truck, I could hear the crunching of snow under our feet which seemed to have echoed in my head. One could actually taste the cold air.

The ride to the hospital was filled with hysterical cries in the night. Trying to speak, but everything came out jumbled. My mind was racing a mile a minute. When we arrived at the facility, I could my lover’s mom waiting for us as we pulled up into the parking lot. I didn’t realize she even made that call. When it was time to get out of the truck…I couldn’t…it was as if my body shut down…I was frozen. The two of them had to hold me up as I walked because I kept collapsing barely making it to the entrance. We all walked in somewhat unison to the elevator with sounds of my outbursts echoing in the empty halls. We got in and they let go of me.

I collapsed to the floor and they looked on for a moment. The bell rang and they lifted me up as the doors opened.

Please, no I don’t want to go down that hall, if I don’t go she will still be here to yell and scream at the nurses…I heard myself cry out in my mind.

I have never taken such a long walk down a hospital corridor. It seemed endless…the closer I got the further away it seemed to her room where my mother lay.

I could feel death in the air lingering. It seemed so still, so surreal…I couldn’t hear anything as we passed the nurses at their station. Silence was deadly.

Looking back I now see how fortunate I was to have two loving individuals stand by me during the hardest and most trying time of my life. I could feel their love and their support with every step I took.

I entered the room and held my mother’s hand. I spoke to her about being close to her lover in heaven and not being in pain…no more suffering…just peace. My final good bye included how much I loved her.

I have learned so much from that night for instance carpè diem; not only to seize the day, but also the hours and minutes too and always remember that I can never tell someone I love them too many times. Will you let a day go by without saying I love you to a loved one?

Just Say It: I Love You!!!

That’s a wrap!!! Charlie Chaplin In The Gold Rush   Leave a comment


       

                

Charlie Chaplin was the “Little Tramp” who wore a bowler, had a wooden cane and walked like a penguin in The Gold Rush (1925), a timeless tale of fighting for the American dream while struggling for survival against man and nature. He played the underdog, an isolated lone prospector who fell in love with a dance hall girl. It portrayed subtle socio-economical commentaries of the time expressed through pantomimed slapstick and pathos.

In The Gold Rush, we witnessed tragedy through the eyes of hunger in an allusion of Alaska, perceived fear of failure, and related to the joy expressed by the actors. Chaplin’s vision of realism in telling the story was developed by incorporating the right combination actors/actresses, background sets, costumes, camera angles, and editing styles.Henderson (1988) discussed the fundamentals in which to create a narrative, “Actors, sets, montage, photographic effects and other elements work together – in concert-to create a narrative that carries us along so firmly that we often fail to notice, or will not to do so, the means by which it is created.” (p. 23).

As the lights faded in a movie house the title appeared on the screen, The Gold Rush in big bold letters that are shadowed to give the impression of three dimension lettering, just as the Little Tramp lived in a multidimensional world. The continuity editing techniques used for the beginning credits were fade-in and fade-out lightening of overlapping words. The blackened sides of the screen made the credits stand out so the audience would focus on them. The establishing shot began with a prologue of an iris-in opening up with an overhead crane angle creating a large depth of field with an extreme long shot of a snow covered mountain, a small town and a crowd of prospectors. With the help of United Artist Studio the major mise-en-scéne had been created and described by Chaplin’s website, “For the main shooting the unit returned to the Hollywood studio, where a remarkably convincing miniature mountain range was created out of timber (a quarter of a million feet, it was reported), chicken wire, burlap, plaster, salt and flour.”[1] This was the films reality and as Corrigan (2010) stated, “The illusion of realism, in short, is a kind of mise-en-scéne that makes us believe that the images are of an everyday world that is simply “there” – one we know and are familiar with.” (p.52).

 The long and high shot camera angle for this adventure scene had the audience looking down at the human chain of prospectors who climbed up the winding mountain trail at Klondike’s ChilkootPass,[2] like ants on a food frenzy trail.

The struggles of these men were depicted as they climbed up the snow capped mountain and one man fell towards the camera giving a three dimensional affect. The closing of the scene utilized an iris-out leading into a fade-in of an extreme long shot of the mountain cliffs.

As the “natural” daylight brightened the scene, within a long shot of the mountains we see the main character walking carefree as the upbeat tempo of the music seemed to follow his steps while a close up exposed his natively of black bear behind him. The irony of the scene was the potential danger which was unseen. The bear returns to his cave, fade to black ending the scene.

The introduction of the second main character was of an extreme close up of a sign with Big Jim McKay’s (Mack Swain) name on it, cutaway to a long of him hitting the post into the ground. Warmed by his fur coat the prospector knelt down into the snow and became excited by a discovery with a close up the audience saw gold parallel edited to the Little Tramp coming up to a large sign which frightened him as it told of a man dying.

As a blizzard hit, there was a long shot of a cabin as the two characters find their way through the snow storm parallel edited to the introduction of the next character, a wanted criminal. The insert shot of Black Larsen (Tom Murray) sitting inside the cabin, established his character as he glanced at own his face on a piece of paper, cutaway to an over the shoulder close up eye line matching of the wanted poster he held in his hand. The tight compression of the cabin scene signified a prison in which he resided. A stove, table, and two beds were all that the audience had seen in the wide angle shot. The off kilter doorframe symbolized the future chaos within the cabin.

The scene which helped establish the plot began with a wide angle of the characters, starving, and playing high-low to see who would hunt for food. The criminal chose his card and an extreme close up uncovered the two of spades resulting in his losing the draw. The reaction shot was that of disbelief, fade to black. While the two men waited in the cabin, the decision had been made to boil a shoe. A ¾ shot of the Little Tramp taking the shoe out of the boiling water cutaway to a close up of his feet signaling the audience of one shoe missing. A medium shot showed The Little Tramp eating the footwear as if it were a sirloin steak expressing his pleasure through facial expressions. It was actually made out of licorice. The dialogue between the two men at the table captured by a shot/reverse pattern displaying Big Jim’s disbelief in the shoe being eaten. Days had passed and a dream sequence with a wide angle of Big Jim’s delirium visualizing his cabin mate as a large chicken (representing the cruel world, cannibalism, feelings of being trapped, and survival of the fittest, my impression) resulted in the two parting. The composition of the scene was balanced by the awkward angle of the cabin on the right and the two men on the left side of the screen. It was here that the plot point dramatically changed.

In town, a scene in the dance hall portrayed a dark background of people at the bar until the dance hall girl came down the stairs and into a medium cameo shot. A long and wide shot of the town’s perspective exposed the Little Tramp walking into the hall. Wide and medium shots showed the mise-en-scéne of a crowded saloon. He stood in the door way, the critical focus was on his presence as the crowd enjoyed themselves in a shallow depth of field. People were talking, dancing and laughing. Through the smoke filled room the music played a waltz that was befitting of the scene. A ¾ shot of a dance hall girl glancing in his direction gave him the wrong impression as irony would have it, her boyfriend stood behind him as she held her hand out.

He was in love with the dance hall girl shown by a wide

angle as she and her boyfriend spoke and the Little Tramp stood by and watched. His affection was shown to the audience by a close up of her picture with a rose under his pillow. His invite and her acceptance along with her girlfriends to spend New Years dinner together turned out to be a hoax. The women were seen ridiculing him as explained by Grace (1952) stated, “Women are used to depict the objective reality of a particular situation. They exemplify the realist position, and Charlie, the tramp, the idealist. (p.360). The second dream sequence took place when the women stood him up. He envisioned entertaining his guests with an oceana roll dance utilizing inanimate objects and his facial expressions. The wide angle of everyone seated at the table cutaway to a medium close up cameo shot as he performed his comic routine in an angelic light.

Big Jim and the Little Tramp found the gold and began living the American dream while sailing on a ship back home. Ironically, a ¾ shot of the dance hall girl placed her on the same ship.  After a mistaken identity of the Little Tramp being a castaway, the girl came to his rescue in a wide angle eye-lined shot.

Chaplin’s inspiration for The Gold Rush was based on factual incidents regarding the legendary Donner Party incident of 1846. He produced a comedy out of the most fundamental human behaviors and needs such as love, food, shelter, and survival of the fittest…all narrated through the art of silent film.

References

Corrigan, T. (2010). A short Guide to writing about film.New York: Pearson Education, Inc.

Grace, H. A. (1952). Charlie Chaplin’s Films and American Culture Patterns. The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism. The American Society for Aesthetics, 10(4), 360. Retrieved April 5, 2010, from    http://www.jstor.org/stable/426065

Henderson, B. (1988). Notes on Set Design and Cinema. Film Quarterly, 42(1), 23. Retrieved April 7, 2010 from www.jstor.org/stable/1212433


[1] Major mise-en-scéne description from website: http://www.charliechaplin.com

[2] Location description from website: http://www.charliechaplin.com/biography/articles/5-The-Gold-Rush

An Excerpt From My Book ~ A Creative Non-Fiction Portrait Essay ~ Diversity In Our World   4 comments


           

Never sacrifice who you are just because someone has a problem with it. ~ anonymous

I speak from experience as I am a biological female who married and divorced a Transgender man, a FTM (female to male). I want to share what I know now.

Falling in love with anyone is supposed to be the most beautiful experience in life. But, being a Transgender in today’s society can be complicated for them regarding their sacred journey. For those unique individuals they must consider certain factors that most of us take for granted in everyday life. Trust and safety issues are always on the fore front of their minds. For an FTM (female to male) or MTF (male to female), the risk is high of being rejected or finding themselves in a hostile situation, leading to a hate crime. One can even say that they put their lives on the line, daily. Who can one trust in coming out?

According to Riley, & Wong & Sitharthan (2011), “According to Carroll, Gilroy, and Ryan (2002), the extent of “gender privilege” a non-transgender person experiences in society is “alarming and ubiquitous” (p. 137), and rights for transgender individuals are most often limited…”

Unfortunately, so many Transsexual individuals feel they are in the closet and not able to share their inner most self with newly found friends or potential love interests. This is a frustrating and a rocky road as their body progressively matches their mind with the proper surgeries and hormones. The passage into their gender as they integrate themselves into society as their innate sex is not one that is taken lightly, but destined.

Furthermore, discrimination is prevalent regardless of where one lives and unfortunately, most states do not have laws implemented to protect the Transgender individual. In my eyes, they are the victims with no legal backing when it comes to divorce, child custody or even employment possibilities. It is common knowledge that in thirty eight states a Transgender could be fired solely based on a label, a way of life…the only life they knew.

Bottom line, a Transgender does not wake up one morning and say, “I think I’ll be a Transgender today.”

Think of it as someone deciding; today is the day, “I am going to be heterosexual.”

 Nor would anyone place themselves intentionally in society with this gender disorder based on such negative undertones associated with our communities. It is unfortunate that we live in a time when acceptance and tolerance are considered taboo. What is needed is a push beyond the comfort zone…personally speaking. With an open mind, the turmoil of societal and cultural dynamics will see the new boundaries that need to be intersected. The time has come to take off the blinders and see the world through a new lens of diversity, don’t you agree?

Reference

Riley, E. A. & Wong, W. K. T. & Sitharthan, G. (2011). Counseling Support for the Forgotten Transgender Community. Journal of Gay & Lesbian Social Services, 23. 395–410. Retrieved January 24, 2012, from http://www.peoplesmart.net.au/Riley%202011%20UoS%20Counseling%20support%20for%20the%20forgotten%20TG%20community%20Riley%202011.pdf

The Coroner’s Photographs by Brent Staples ~ Literary Analysis   Leave a comment


       

The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time. ~ Mark Twain ~

Twain’s quote speaks of being prepared to die, just as the character Blake Melvin Staples must have felt. “The Corner’s Photographs” by African American author Brent Staples is a short story that is skillfully written and illustrates the death of a man and his surviving brother’s struggle when he confronts the image of the body.

It is the first sentence that captures the reader’s attention pulling them into the author’s profound thoughts. He uses the first person singular as he claims the feelings and words as his own, “I need this detail to see my brother full” (405). It is through the main characters eyes that we see the world, family and death. His distinctive narrative voice is powerful and filled with sadness, but no remorse. The style includes formal/informal words and strong sentence patterns that emerge because the action verbs that ends in “ing” only appear twice in the piece. The author also varies in sentence lengths which grabs the reader’s attention.

Repetition is applied in key words such as, dead, mourning (ed), and coroner’s report. These words emphasize their meanings to reinforce the theme of life and death. The tone, one is solemn and subdued as the story begins to reveal Staples personal disclosure of the events. This evokes emotions of sadness that lingers in the air above the reader as they absorb the traumatic event. The dialogue is minimal, yet connects to the theme, “Please don’t shoot me no more. I don’t want to die” and “Brent Blake is dead,” he said. Some guy pulled up in a car and emptied out on him with a magnum. Blake is dead” (420). The language spoken by Staples’s brothers is broken English. It depicts a street person, maybe they are uneducated individuals?

As the plot unfolds the reader is taken into a cold and sterile environment as the author places the reader in the coroner’s office with the dead body. The writer flashbacks to when his brother is alive, followed by his demise and then the corner’s examination. In the end it is revealed how a man’s life is summed up by one pouch, “The pouch contained a summary of the trial, the medical examiner’s report, and a separate inner pouch wrapped in twine and shaped like photographs” (421), coroner photographs.

Staples exposes new information in the ninth paragraph with a subtle riff by intertwining the element of irony with the backstory of the essay. It begins by naming a city, state and time, Roanoke, Chicago, six weeks ago. The irony is seen when the protagonist forecasts his brother’s death, “The signs of death were everywhere; his name was hot in the street” and “I told him that he was in danger of being killed if he didn’t leave town” (420).

The characterization incorporated within the essay begins with the protagonist. He is a strong man who has a heavy heart and is family oriented, “I bathed and diapered him when he was a baby and studied his features as he grew” (418). The sensitive doctor who tries to save Blake, the dying man, “I tied off everything I could, he said, and then he wept at the savagery and the waste” (418). The coroner is also a character in this piece through his/her actions. “The coroner dissects the body, organ by organ” (419). This brought the essay to a more complex level as medical terminology is given. In paragraph eleven the reader learns a new fact as part of the backstory, there is another sibling, “Six weeks later my brother Bruce called me with the news…” (420). And last but not least, Blake Melvin Staples, the deceased. His lifestyle and actions as a drug dealer in life and now death affects Staples deeply, “I had already mourned Blake and buried him and was determined not to suffer his death a second time…I skipped the funeral and avoided Roanoke for the next three years” (420).

There are two crises within the essay. The first appears when the author knows his brother is a target, “I sought Blake out to tell him it was time to get out of the business and leave Roanoke” (420). The second is an inner crisis that is uncovered, these are the mixed emotions about the untimely death of Staples brother, “I told myself to feel nothing” (420). The essay has no element of suspense and no real resolution, but hopefully holds closure for the author.

The writer uses sensory imagery and detail throughout the piece for instance, tap handles that mimicking wings…an inverted pyramid, boxy forehead…heart shaped face…a mouth whose lips are pouting and bloody…shattered vessels…a bullet track…pelvic bones jut up…smallest of the brothers…second toe is a signature…shot six times, three in the back…” plus the coroner’s report is very vivid in detail. Figurative language such as metaphors is used, “…taps handles mimicking wings, easily suggests a swan in mourning…his widow’s peak…an inverted pyramid” (417). The swan in mourning can be seen as the foreshadowing of the events that will soon follow.

The narrative arc shows how the protagonist has changed from the beginning to end of the essay. In the introduction, Staples speaks of his brother as a toddler and shows the strength within the family unit, “His feelings are mine as well” (418). It is in the body of the essay information is shared regarding Staple’s brother, the drug dealer. He struggles to have him leave the city for his own good, to stay alive. The conclusion brings the events to reality and stops the author’s world as the coroner’s photographs are viewed, “I opened the pouch; there was Blake dead and on the slab, photographed from several angles. The floor gave way, and I fell down and down for miles” (421).What the character has learned is that it is better to walk away from a loved one who is self-destructive, someone who will never change his ways then to stand by and watch their downfall.

The introduction is captivating and I couldn’t stop reading. The body of the essay developed as the events revolved around a coroner’s actions and flashbacks.  Each paragraph leads into the next smoothly connecting each thought. The conclusion reflected the first paragraph as it defined the medical examination of Staples’s brother in the coroner’s office.

I found this essay to be filled with love and a broken heart as it evoked strong emotions. It portrays the reality of life. It defines a man’s life as a pouch and the questions begin, what is life and death. Life is reaching your hand out to someone who is falling, “down and down for miles” and it is up to the individual to extend their hand or accept their fate. Blake Melvin Staples met his fate in death. I wonder, did Blake die in vain?

Works cited

Staples, Brent. “The Coroner’s Photographs.” Tell it slant: Writing and Shaping Creative Nonfiction. New York: McGraw-Hill, 2011. 417- 21.

The Anniversary Of When Time Stood Still: February 2008   Leave a comment


People fear death even more than pain. It’s strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over. Yeah, I guess it is a friend. ~ Jim Morrison
 

Life is filled with options and decisions and we hope that we make the right choices at the right times. If wrong choices are made, we hope to learn from them and move on.

This is my story about cause, effect, regret and forgiving myself.

Mom, always said, “It’s you and me against the world.”

It was a dark and wintery night when the first call came in, probably around midnight and the nurse stated she was having some problems and was calling the doctor to confirm placing her on an IV bag. I should have jumped up that very minute. Not once in two months had they called me to tell me her status. I was half awake and half asleep…but that was no excuse. I didn’t rush down there to hold her hand. I didn’t get into the truck and speed over to the hospital to tell her I loved her. I just rolled over and went back to sleep. Two hours and seventeen minutes later the phone rang. My heart sank. The nurse on the other end said there was nothing they could do…she was gone.

I dropped the phone…speechless. I was hysterical…barely able to speak. To say the words…my mother passed over. My friend, confidant, sometimes worst enemy yet, the one who taught me about life, strength, courage and love in her own way has left her earthly body.

The early morning brought bitterly cold wind with snow and ice on the ground. We dressed hurriedly or should say my partner did because I couldn’t stop the flow of tears and my knees buckled beneath me and I kept hitting the floor. I was picked up and held for a moment and then kissed gently several times. She was my rock at that moment and I had no idea. After I was dressed we went outside and she walked next to me holding my hand. As we staggered across that blanket of winter to the truck, I could hear the crunching of snow under our feet which seemed to have echoed in my head. One could actually taste the cold air.

The ride to the hospital was filled with hysterical cries in the night. Trying to speak, but everything came out jumbled.  My mind was racing a mile a minute. When we arrived at the facility, I could see her mom waiting for us as we pulled up into the parking lot. I didn’t realize she even made that call. When it was time to get out of the truck…I couldn’t…it was as if my body shut down…I was frozen. The two of them had to hold me up as I walked because I kept collapsing barely making it to the entrance. We all walked in somewhat unison to the elevator with sounds of my outbursts echoing in the empty halls. We got in and they let go of me.

I collapsed to the floor and they looked on for a moment. The bell rang and they lifted me up as the doors opened.

Please, no I don’t want to go down that hall, if I don’t go she will still be here to yell and scream at the nurses…I heard myself cry out in my mind.

I have never taken such a long walk down a hospital corridor. It seemed endless…the closer I got the further away it seemed to her room where my mother lay.

I could feel death in the air lingering. It seemed so still, so surreal…I couldn’t hear anything as we passed the nurses at their station. Silence was deadly.

Looking back I now see how fortunate I was to have two loving individuals stand by me during the hardest and most trying time of my life. I could feel their love and their support with every step I took.

I entered the room and held my mother’s hand. The loud maddening monitors and IV beeps filled my head to where I was frozen. I stared at her with disbelief like she was just sleeping. I spoke to her about being close to her lover in heaven and not being in pain…no more suffering…just peace. My final good bye included how much I loved her.

I have learned so much from that night for instance carpè diem; not only to seize the day, but also the hours and minutes too and always remember that I can never tell someone I love them too many times. Will you let a day go by without saying I love you to a loved one?

Just Say It: I Love You!!!

A Timeless Friendship   1 comment


This story is based on losing one’s faith, finding it again and as the cliché goes, “Every cloud has a silver lining.” We choose different paths in life when it comes to our friends yet, somehow the connection of the heart remains the same.

My New York girlfriend, Franca and I had known each other for 26 years, we met in Queens, New York at a community college and she became the sister I never had almost immediately. Knowing each other for that amount of time I had a tendency of drifting in and out of her life. I would meet someone and become romantically involved and the next thing you knew months would go by without communicating with each other. The typical old story. It seemed whenever a relationship of mine ended, we would pick up where we left off as if no time had passed at all.

The last time there was a large gap between the two of us speaking was when I moved from Texas to Florida. I think it had been about a year since we had spoken. I had my own place and never unpacked everything. There were still boxes pilled high in my closet.

While at work one day…a malefic day in New York had struck in which everyone on this planet was affected …9/11. The owners of the company were from New York too as I was. They closed the office early that day and I ran home. As I entered my apartment tears were rolled down my cheeks. I ran to the closet in search of a small piece of paper I had carried around for years. I opened up all the boxes…scattering papers, books and photos all over my living room floor. And then I saw it…the paper I had been looking for. On one side of the paper there was an illegible phone number…probably a drink had spilled on it … this was my friend’s phone number. I turned it over and on the other side of the paper there was her sister’s phone number…but, the paper was torn and missing the last digit.

I immediately picked the phone up and dialed New York numbers using zero through nine trying to fill in the last digit. I was crazed because all I could think of was my friend’s sister had worked in one of the towers that collapsed. I left at least seven messages in a fifteen minute period on stranger’s answering machines in the hopes that I could find my friend…my confidant…my sister. I’m sure the individuals who listened to my message thought I was crazy…crying into the phone in search of my long lost friend.

Two days later the phone rang and on the other end there was the woman I needed to hear from…my dearest friend…. my sister. We spoke for hours and before we hung up I promised that no matter what I would not ever loose contact again. And to this day I have kept my word to her. It was through this tragedy that I learned, life is too short and to always keep in touch with the one’s you love. And on a happy note, her sister was fine.

Family: A Brother and Sister   Leave a comment


 

 


Lessons to be learned in this life. Who ever said life was fair? Life is what you make of it. I still hear my mother’s voice as she taught these truths and instilled all of this wisdom into me.

My mother was a social worker for 20 years, loved by her clients as they all called her, “Mom.” She had worked for different agencies and even in Ryker’s Island New York City’s jail facility counseling inmates.

One moment in time enhanced our lives forever when she was employed at a home for neglected children…homeless children. It was there that she befriended a young African American boy about to turn 18. He had been sent there for juvenile protection. It was a cold place, but at least he had a roof over his head and food to eat. It was state mandated that once reaching the legal age that the child now adult be given $50.00 and told to go and face the world, on his own…alone.

The picture below picture was taken because my mother loved make-up and photography.

Brother and sister

I was 13 years old and lived upstate New York in the Hudson County Valley area when my mother came home with the news, “I have been counseling a young man who was going to be placed out into the cruel world without any help. I wanted you to know that there will always be people in need, but if I could help just one of them…” My mother had a heart of a saint. She opened up our home to a lost soul. It wasn’t soon after he moved in that I realized I had found the brother I never had.

How would I describe him? He was a very tall, handsome…black man. We instantly began a friendship and a sibling bond that followed almost immediately. His heart was pure and he reminded me of a big marshmallow…sweet inside. He had become my confidant as I was his. We shared our hopes, dreams and pains that we had gone through…even at our young ages. My mother was proud that she had a son and would boast to all who listened. We adapted him with our hearts. It was a bond that we shared till this day as he would always call me his, “Lil sis” and I would see him as my, “Big bro.”

People come in and out of your lives, some stay while others go but, each serve a purpose and teach us a lesson that we will always carry close to our heart. ❤

<img src=”Dennell  ~ man in a black car” alt=”” />