Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Sharing Flowers


A former colleague of mine recently passed away. A wonderful girl, with an infectious sense of humor, a heart of gold, and a passion for all things leading to fabulous journeys. She’d been ill for quite some time, and while her death didn’t come as a complete shock, the pain was just as difficult. As I thought back on all of her accomplishments within the past year, I smiled. She’d finally earned her BA in Business Administration, a feat that she’d wrestled with for a long time. She’d created a pretty lucrative handmade soap business with her sister, of which I was her biggest customer. She’d entered a local beauty pageant a few months ago, and actually came in second place. She was my colleague, my friend….and she will be missed. It was right about the time that her brother posted information for her funeral services, that I saw them. The condolences, the memories, the hundreds of pictures. They came flooding in like a river. At last count, she had eighty-six post-mortem messages from friends and family members. It was all so surreal. Having been in the same circle for some time, we’d acquired many of the same friends. It was interesting to see their post, their declarations. And that’s when it started….
Perhaps it’s just me. Maybe I’m reading way too much into things. Insomnia mixed with Aunty Flo has, in the past, proven to be a wicked mix. But this is me…I post when my cousin has a new spot in a commercial. I share when my co-worker starts selling life insurance. I tag my sister when she debuts her new catering business. But again, perhaps that’s just me. I enjoy spreading the good news about the people I care about. I’m the cheerleader with the pom-poms sharing your page as though its mine. I’m right there, showcasing your accomplishments…because you, and your life are amazing to me. But again, now remember…this is just me.
My friend…her handmade soap business, never generated the buzz that it should have early on. It’s not that her product wasn’t good. On the contrary…it’s very good! However, she made the mistake of sharing this new venture with those on her ‘personal’ page. You know, the one with her friends and her family…and they, shared it with no one. These same folks who were so quick to enter paragraphs about how much she meant to them, had never once cheered her on as she accepted her rhinestone covered crown. These same friends and family members who shamelessly repost and like videos of kids fighting in school, and weirdos shopping in Walmart, had never even commented on her receiving her BA. It all makes me wonder. Why does bad news travel so much more quickly than good news? Someone gets a promotion at work, no one bats an eye, but let that same person get fired at eight o’clock in the morning, and the whole department knows by noon. Someone purchases their first house, and ten of their seven hundred friends hits the like button, but let the same person get evicted, and people can't circulate their GoFundMe page fast enough.

@#$! Stop clogging my feed with negative and ridiculously sad posts. Instead, let's share posts that uplift and inspire one another! Don’t share flowers and good intentions with the dead, share them with the living.

Sunday, May 15, 2016

Just Breathe

I know that its hard...but remember to breathe. And when you wake up tomorrow...remember to breathe again. And the day after that, the week after that, and the month after that...breathe. And then, one day you'll wake up, refreshed, and wonder why you held your breath for so long....

Monday, April 25, 2016

When Doves Cry

I tried to put into words, the significance of just how much he had meant to me. I attempted to convey, in the best way that I could, exactly how devastating this news had been for me. I’d caught myself several times over the weekend, staring into space while humming an old familiar tune. For me, he was much more than a legendary icon to the masses. For me, he was my best friend. A friend who although I’d never met, had a way of always being there when I needed him. A friendship that unlike most, survived my awkward teens, my rebellious twenties, my headstrong thirties, and my now awakened forties. A constant companion, who provided me with an endless array of liner notes, to cajole my listless emotions past their boundaries.
 
I cried. Not the tears that fall after watching a well-acted Hallmark channel movie. No, these were ugly tears. Tears mixed with mucus and heavy heaving. Tears that stung my eyes as they fell, leaving the collar of my blouse soaked. Tears that cause strangers to reach for your shoulder and ask if you’re okay. I looked around me, confused. I’d had vivid dreams before. Dreams that had left me fighting and screaming in my sleep. This felt like a dream. Correction, this felt like a nightmare. My Facebook feed, my emails, text messages, the radio on the ride home, the television 24/7….I was awake and it was real. Prince was dead. Not much to say, because for the most part, I’m still processing this as a reality. An immortal essence that captivated and serenaded me since I was twelve years old, was gone. A musical virtuoso had departed our universe without so much as a forwarding address. I loved him then, I love him now. I’ll love Prince forever.

RIP – Rest In Purple