A great soul journeyed back Home yesterday.

She was a truly wonderful presence in my life. Everyone’s favorite. Made everyone feel like they were her favorite.

She was my birthday buddy. Our birthdays just two days apart.

She called me her “Beans” ever since I was little bitty. A nickname that stuck with me for life.

She taught me to drive. Took me to my driver’s test. I took the test in her Ford Taurus. Silver.

She secretly slipped me $20 bills when we’d visit her when I was much younger.

She was always an open, unbiased, non-judgmental ear. She taught me how to eat crab legs the “right” way… more than once. Ha.

But, she was absolutely tough as nails. Ex-military. Tomboy just like my mama.

She’d pick me up and take me to the town over to go shopping at a screen print shirt place in the hood called, “Velva Sheen.” She liked to buy looney tunes things. Loved Taz.

She bought me a Mickey Mouse watch with leather straps for my 16th birthday.

Her eyes closed when she smiled.. just like mine.

I truly admired her.

She filled in so many emotional blanks for me over the course of my childhood and adolescence.

I hope she knows what she meant to me. To everyone.

She took care of my baby sister and my nieces and nephews these last years with an open heart and unconditional love… which meant the world to me.

She gave me amazing cousins. More memories with them than I can count. I wish I was home to make more.

Most of my best childhood memories involve her house on the Westside.

I got to see her a few months ago when we took a trip home. She gave me the biggest longest hug when she arrived… although I could tell she was in pain. Emotionally and physically.

As she left, she hugged me for a long, long while and said in my ear, “I’m so glad I got to see you, my Beans. This will probably be the last time I get to see you.”

… like she knew.

She was my favorite person.

I don’t know if she knew that.

I’d send flowers to her randomly recently to let her know what she meant to me.

Even though life has separated me from my family by a thousand miles.

Which is incredibly difficult in moments like this.

Last night as I closed my eyes to sleep, I saw her face so clearly in my mind. Her big smile, rosy cheeks just like mine, smiling eyes just like mine.

She said, “I love you, Beans.”

I love you too, Aunt Debbie.

Please visit me in my dreams often.

Please come take my hand and lead me Home when it’s my turn.

Can’t wait to see you again.

I’m glad you’re no longer suffering.

Love forever and ever,

Your “Beans”