It has been three years to the day you passed. I still find it hard to believe you are no longer here with us. If anyone would have told me in the past that you wouldn't be here I would ask the same questions that I would ask today. Why? Why a spirit so purposeful and full of promise? I've come to accept in my heart the cycle of life and that God has a plan, but sometimes it hurts so bad to know you are no longer with us. It hurts to know that you won't be here to make the family laugh at gatherings like you always have, you won't walk in with your quirky hair cut and lip ring. It hurts that the possibility of running into my cousin in the streets on Manhattan is no longer. It hurts that we won’t be here to support each other as we grow up. Your birthday is coming up. Twenty eight, we are getting old hun? A lot has changed since you left. Bill and your mother have since moved down to South Carolina. I know you never had an opportunity to see the house, but it's everything they both deserve. Grandma and Grandpa have also left Jamaica and moved to South Carolina, your mother bought a house directly across the street. Yes, they live on the same block. Kimberly and Michelle are well, both Kaaliyah and Marquez have grown so big. I recently went to Kaaliyah's 10th birthday party at a roller skating ring in New Jersey. I had a great time seeing all of them. Even Aunt Marcia was there. Even though she didn't get on skates she sure did dance. It looked like she enjoyed herself. Uncle Richard is doing well, still in Tampa doing his thing. As for my brother, mother and I we are fine and miss you dearly.
So what's it like, we mortals often have so many questions about the after life? While we know your physical is no longer with us, your spirit lives on. There are times I pray to you and ask you for guidance, to show me a sign. I can remember vividly when I was depressed while in my first year of college, Bill put you on the phone after himself encouraging me to be strong. You proceeded to lend words of encouragement yourself, I thought that was remarkable. I had always viewed us as being on the same playing field, but that day you surpassed me. I remember a couple of years after we started going to separate schools Bill would encourage you and I to keep in touch and be a little more proactive in sharing our lives together. We made attempts but quickly went our separate ways only seeing each other randomly in the street at family gatherings, at the bus or even at a rock show or two. Random hun? Remember we would always see each other in the morning as we went to school? You attended Brooklyn Tech and I went to Poly. Nearly every morning there we were waving to each other as you walked pass and I sat on the cheese bus waiting for my classmates to enter and be seated. There is so much I want to say, I could go on and on with the memories. I could go on about how we shared the same conviction about how bad Brandy was going to be when she grew up. I haven't seen her but I bet you we were both right. LOL!!!
About a year after you passed I sought treatment for depression and anxiety. I was diagnosed with bipolar disease. The treatment is going well. I know a little bit more about who I am and techniques on how to cope with the disease. Looking back I almost feel like you had the same disease. I remember sharing some of the same symptoms, sleeping the day away, the lethargic feelings and the sometimes uneasiness about ourselves. You once confided in me that you felt I was a cooler version of you. Cool or not you were a better version of me. Accomplished in so many ways I have yet to be. Swimming for instance, between you and I, I'm not sure I will ever learn. I wish I could understand music and have the same discipline you had. That big sign on your bedroom wall will forever stay with me. THINK, in huge letters. You knew how to do it best. Remember the Simba Wachanga rites of passage program? It was there I heard you use the term "analytical thinking" for the first time. I was so impressed. I still am.
I know your absence has been extremely painful for your mother in more ways than I will ever understand. She loved you and continues to keep your spirit alive. I don't keep in touch with her as much as I should. I get so wrapped up in my own problems I forget the ones who need support the most. I often feel like bringing you up may be too painful for her, so I talk about other subjects. Bill is doing well also. I remember not too long after they moved down to South Carolina, my mother told me Bill was emotional distraught about your loss. We both know he loved you too. He has been strong for your mother and continues to be.
The same day you were in your accident, I was in a similar situation though not nearly as serious and life altering as yours. I was on a sail boat with my girlfriend and her family when we crashed into the pier, shattering glass all over us, even causing one person to bleed. Like I said not nearly as life altering. A part of me feels our accident not only happened on the same day, but at the same moment. I still ask God to explain to me why you and not me. Why was I left to carry on, and you stripped of your future? A couple of weeks before your accident I was ridding with friends on a slippery road after a rainstorm had passed. The driver hit a sharp turn down a hill causing one side of the jeep to raise up. I was in the back seat with no seat belt on as I was accustomed to doing. I never wore a seatbelt, whether I sat in the front or back seat. You know we thought we were invincible. Luckily the conditions didn't lead to disaster. The jeep came back down, made the turn safely and we were on our way. Needless to say I have since buckled up every time I enter a car. No questions asked. Why you Warren? Look how much good have you done in your life? Look how important your presence has been? Why not me? There are answers to these questions I have yet to find. I know the higher power has a plan, I only hope to live up to and carry on the legacy you have left behind. Please show me a sign, show me a better way. I am struggling down here. You know what I'm going through I don't need to tell you. Please pray for me as I will do the same for you. You have left a black hole in all of our hearts that still pains today. We miss you very much and look forward to the day we can spend time together again. I thought about in what way could I pay tribute to you. I often think what would Warren do? Your mother initially planned to spread your ashes across the Hudson river considering you spent so much time in Manhattan. She latter decided to keep your ashes for personal reasons. So I plan on stealing a page from her book and sending this to you via the water. When you get it feel free to share your thoughts with me. We both know I could use the guidance. I love you and I miss you.
Cinque
