REMEMBERING A DEAR FRIEND

This time last week I was composing an email to a dear author friend.

This is something we had done numerous times since our first meeting in 2012 at the Black Authors Rock Weekend.

It wasn't until a couple of years ago, when she was the moderator for a panel I was on at Busboys and Poets that we became email pals.

I was in awe of her writing, had been since her novel, Where Did We Go Wrong? hit the Essence best seller list. She told of how she got up, stayed in her PJ's and wrote until she got tired. 

Well, as I composed that email I was telling her that I was finally getting my tiny house and finally make the commitment to write every day. I knew she would find something funny to say and then, as always encourage me to 'set aside space, time and just let my creative juices flow".

I always looked for her inspiration messages on Instagram and while I hadn't gotten a response from my early morning email; I knew she would respond to it. 

Then my heart got crushed around 9 pm Monday night.

I saw messages popping up in my stream about how we needed to PRAY for her husband and son. How we needed to hope that everything would be OK. I didn't want to go to her page because I didn't want to know what they were talking about.

But I had to know.

And I learned late Monday night that my writing, email, author friend had died. 

To say that my heart was crushed is an understatement. My heart hurts..literally. I have been crying since learning of the news. I can't stop smiling because I know her smile is forever and I can't stop from wishing that she was still here. That she would answer that last email; that she would send that inspiration message on Instagram.

But Monica is not.

She has gained her wings and we are left with a huge whole in the literary community. 

We are selfish because we want her here but there are reason why her shoulder was tapped. There is a reason why her laptop will never come back on. There is a reason why that space on her bed, that held her while writing will never be occupied. 

It's because she is now writing that next novel in her other home. She is now writing as much as she wants and will never know about deadlines, edits and rejection. 

She is where we all hope to be; she just got there first and now she is writing and holding our seat at the table.

Rest eternally my beautiful friend as I will miss you and will never forget our emails every Monday morning.

EVERY YEAR WE REMEMBER OUR GIRL

I don't recall the year and it's the only date that I don't remember.

Well I don't want to ever remember the day that my bonus daughter left us to take up residence in heaven.

I was at work and remember getting the call. I screamed in my car for almost three minutes.

We celebrated her life at the beach. We released her, in what can only be called, a surreal moment.

We knew we wanted her ashes to be left at the beach. But how?

Suddenly a school of dolphins swam almost to shore and literally stayed while we cried and looked at the sunset. It was as if they were waiting for us to give Crystal to them.

Dolphins were a favorite of hers.

Her dad, +Austin Camacho, swam out and released her into the ocean and then, just like that...the dolphins swam away.

We were all shocked and began to laugh. 

That is the only way Chrystal would have wanted to be released. Perfect, right?

Not quite.

We arrived home and found a small bush waiting on the porch for us and there was a beautifully written card from one of our author friends.

The card said that the flowers that would bloom would remind us of our beautiful daughter. Thank you +DB Corey and wife for this tree.

This year is no different. The blooms came back and every year; we stand and stare at them. We each share our memories and for me; seeing that tree every year with it's perfect blooms, reminds me that our girl is still with us.

Thank you Chrystal for being in my life. 

I know you are still with us. The hummingbirds remind us and so does this flowering tree.