Today is the anniversary of the death of an old friend, Demetric Tywan Malloy. IDK who actually “celebrates” these anniversaries but I know I remember it. Every. Single. Year. I acknowledge his death. Today, I cried… just replaying the events from that day. Its crazy because I wouldnt even say we were super duper duper duper close BUT I remember it like it was yesterday. I cant even tell you the exact date my great-grandma Mary passed away… but I can tell you exactly what I was doing when I found out Dee was killed (riding to church with my sisters and grandma). I can tell you exactly how the next day at school went (I broke down in English — Ms Lockhart’s class) , I can tell you exactly how the funeral went and how it felt to see my “brothers” fighting back their tears.
I can tell you how I reread the poem on the back of his obituary religiously as if somehow it would bring him back… or get my “brothers” back on one accord. I memorized it…. recited it… and began writing poetry because of it. I can tell you this was the day I began writing poetry heavy… how I filled up an entire composition notebook with poems about God and death and dying young. Every time I see this poem I think of him… I can tell you that I still walk by the very spot his body lay and say a prayer every. single. time.
IDK if its because I was 12 years old… but his death hurt like hell. It still does. Its crazy because here I am 13 years later… and tears are forming as I write this. Once I realized today was the 16th, I talked to my husband about Dee… and I cried. I know that if it still gets me choked up after aaaaaaaaaall this time that his BLOOD relatives must truly go through the works this time of year. I pray for them… pray that they get through this time. Some wounds never heal… and although Ive covered it year after year, it always shines through… on March 16th.
God never makes mistakes… tomorrow is not promised… cliche after cliche can be said. But truth is… recognizing these truths allow us to grow. No matter how young or how old, God never makes mistakes when he calls us home. The ONLY thing God promised us was that we would die one day. No man knows neither the time or day… all we know is that tomorrow is a mere possibility… a hope of sorts. Every day is a gift… a moment to live and fulfill the destiny we are all born to fulfill. Every time I think about those who have died each and every year while I am still alive and well, I thank God. I thank Him for the gift of today… the air in my lungs, the blood pumping through my veins. I thank Him for sparing my life… and giving me another chance to make it right. I am not perfect… nor do I pretend to be BUT if and when I make it to heaven, I hope I am able to see them all again… Dee, Grandma Mary, Nanny, Lil Christian, RJ… and all the others who have gone before me.
March 16, 1998 Gone but NEVER forgotten ♥ I love you Dee.