My god brothers were my first friends. The first boys I saw get a whooping with their pants down. The first boys that protected me and in the same breath, the same boys that would bring little girls from their neighborhood over to me and say, “This is our god sister. She’ll beat you up if we tell her to.”
They kept me in trouble.
They kept me with my mouth opened-stunned by the things they would do or say.
They taught me how little boys should protect little girls and eventually how men should protect women.
Jarret and Jarrod. The names were synonymous. They are twins. I love them both the same. I fought with one and played well with the other. We grew up together.
As we grew up dynamics changed. I became closer with the one I fought the most with. It didn’t matter though. Holidays, special days, and birthdays remained a constant for communication no matter what. Time passed and time stood still if we got together! Growing up there was no doubt a “bad” one and a “good” one! The mere perception that the “good” one was the “bad” one and vice versa still gives me a belly laugh every now and again.
My brothers. I lost one this past August. 2019.
Gone way too soon...
I lost MUCH in 2019. Many people are disgusted by 2020 but 2019 was my worst year to date and I don’t want to experience anything else like it. The spiritual side of me is grateful for it all. But the human side of me knows it absolutely SUCKED!
My god brother. The one this world lost. He was sweet and thoughtful and always called me just to say, “I love you, sis!” Our last conversation was on Father’s Day. It was lengthy and it was before I went to church. It seemed that our hour of speaking was a lifetime because we talked about so much during that time. But we ended with, “love you and we’ll get together soon!” In the flesh we can’t...but I can chat with him in my dreams!
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