When You See A Dead Person

Today, I was taking care of some business and swore I saw a woman that looked like my sister. The universe needed to remind me somehow or it was her reminding me that she has my back. In any case, it sucked. It sent me back to 2000 when the two of us were in college together. I realized in that moment how much I miss our relationship. We weren’t too different in terms of disposition, and had a strong connection. She knew what I needed many times over without me saying and it was simply seamless.

You Were There

She gave me a direction as she always talked about being a teacher/professor, consultant, writer and achieve her doctorate. I’ve done all those things for her and in that completed the doctorate, I ran out of direction. Now, I am figuring out what are those things I want to do we always discussed. Unfortunately, she is not here to discuss those things that help me drive forward. Once she wrote our book, You Were There, which I found cleaning her apartment, it constantly reminds me of what I had and lost.

She used to call me the Dark Knight due to my fascination with the world’s greatest detective [Batman]. Those that know me also know me as DK, which is what she used to describe my alter ego that is hella focused. She used to say that when I’m in DK mode, I’m focused, standoffish, and crave adrenaline like activities. What I realized recently in thinking about her is he [DK] does live inside me and has always been the protector. It has always been the safest place for me as things around always change and not necessarily for the better. 

Dark Knight

I miss her patience, love, laughter, and time. At this age, she should be here sitting with me in the garage as I barbecue or playing with the kids. She would always put me first, which I am not sure I appreciated or I did, but just did not acknowledge as she was always first. It was nice to be someone’s go to or someone always putting me first. We did that for one another. I always say that as a man or father, it is not a role that you look to for acknowledgement. My grandfather would always say, it is thankless, and you’re ignored or expected to always be on for the masses, protect everyone, but you are left to watch your gates with a skeleton crew. I’m sure women can say that but I’m not a woman so that ain’t my ministry. The point is, she always helped me feel alive, acknowledged, and that was all I needed. Now, that anchor is gone--

I find myself speaking to her lately just for guidance as if she is sitting across from me at that dive restaurant we always ate. It seems real at times. I close my eyes at night and have conversations with her regarding various things. Ultimately, she was a foundational component for me and a place I could always go, even when I’ve been bad. Now, she is no longer here and…I miss our movie time, food experiments, conversations, and the support. I always say she is the lucky one because she doesn’t have to fight anymore. I simply just miss my sister--