Dear Miss Debbie,
When Isaiah talks about “His girl,” he’s talking about you.
Everyone tells me you two were inseparable. I don’t ever want that to change;
you will always be his first love. You raised up a good man; he treats others
with respect, is disciplined, follows Jesus, stands up for justice, and is a
darn-good linebacker.
He wasn’t supposed to lose his momma at age 22.
I had been saying for a while that the next plane ticket I purchase would be to Virginia. I was right, but definitely not expecting my first trip “home” to be so soon. I knew when I saw the “Call me ASAP” message on my phone that something was seriously wrong. I could hear the fear in his voice as he repeated your doctor’s words. I knew I needed to go.
My stomach was in
knots on the plane. I was so eager to see Isaiah; it had been a long six months
apart. But, I was nervous about meeting you. Nervous about your health and what
I was about to walk into. When I sat down in the chair beside your bed and you
looked at me and said “Hi Sweetie,” those knots in my gut calmed down a little
bit. And when we sat in the room alone together and talked about your flowers
and the boy we both love so much; I knew I was in the right place.
You wanted two things: your baby and your home. I’ll never
forget the look of peace I saw in your eyes as we settled you into our own
living room and cut the hospital bracelets off your wrists. And my heart melted
a little bit each time I caught Isaiah whispering in your ear, holding your
hand, kissing your forehead, or reading to you. My heart is so grateful for
those moments you two were able to share together. I quickly learned the ins-in-outs of being your nurse Em. Your friends and family told me you were a diva. And they were right. You liked to watch Judge Judy at 6PM. You only liked to sip water from your red bedazzled tumbler. I was only to use the Olay body soap with the yellow lid for your bath. You liked your wedge pillow under your knees during the day. And I couldn’t forget the incense on your bed-side table.
I’m usually not an emotional girl, but you got me. I cried the day Isaiah, Grandma Frances, and I gathered around your bed and talked about his childhood. I cried the night we said our final goodbyes in the living room. I cried as I watched your life celebration video and saw your momma’s tears. I cried when the pastor talked about how proud he is of the son you devoted your life to raising.
I cry for all the time I won’t get to spend with you. For all the questions I won’t get to ask you. For all the “I’m at my wits-end with you son, please talk some sense into him” phone- calls I won’t get to make. For all the celebrations and the sad days you won’t be here for.
You made me promise that I wouldn’t stop for you. You wanted us to keep moving forward with life and pursuing our careers. And it's hard, but here I am, back in Haiti taking care of my babies.
I love you Miss Debbie,
Em
"The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail." Isaiah 58:11
