I once read that love can’t be confined to pages or photos or memories – that it’s forever alive, wild, and free. While many will share in the joys of the holidays, there are just as many that are grappling with the loss of loved ones. Today, I share a love story of 25 years in the making. Brian and Serena met in college, fell in love, married, had two beautiful daughters, Ashley and Kamryn, and later, their granddaughter, Harper, came. On February 25, 2021, COVID physically took Serena’s LOVE away. Her journey of grief has been tremendous (as I’m sure it’s been for others), yet her words, a reflection of their life together, are absolutely beautiful. Her “pen” is a masterpiece. If her words were compiled, it would be a book of love poems and tells how their lives are so intertwined. As I sit and read their story, I get a glimpse of true love. If God decides to send love to me one day, I pray that I have a chance at a love of this magnitude. It’s powerful yet simple, real, and so true. It’s pure, it’s a pain, and it’s beautiful all at the same time. I “watch” with my reader’s eye through love’s window, and I’m in awe. Today, with it being so close to Thanksgiving, Serena shares another memory. Just one time, I wish I could ease her heartache, her pain, but even in pain, her love, their love is still alive. Still wild. Still free. Still beautiful. I hope Serena’s memory of her LOVE touches you as it has me.
Thursday will be 269 days since I looked into those beautiful brown eyes and heard your commanding voice…Wow. I know you understand my posting early. I can’t even think about trying to type this on Thanksgiving morning. I truly don’t think I have truly heard or completely understood anything else since that moment. Muffled voices, familiar faces, practical and good advice, but I can’t “hear.” I certainly don’t understand. I still can’t say Yes, I accept that you are gone. I don’t. As I sit, staring at a quiet kitchen, tears stream down. Tuesday morning before Thanksgiving, you would start marinating, seasoning, and making rub and sauce while I made the cornbread for the dressing. Fried turkey requests would be in….turkey drop-off times would be set. Remembering the pride on your face with every phone call requesting your famous turkey makes me smile. You absolutely loved it!
Bumping into each other, listening to you encourage and congratulate yourself on how this year’s meats will be your best. You would remind me that you don’t want to get up before daylight to go Black Friday Shopping (even though you always did), and you would ask did you tell the girls what you want them to cook and admonish me to not be doing all that fussing, save myself and give them their assignments up front! You would ask a serious but jokingly question, “Have you thought about cooking the chitterlings outside this year?” Every year, your same question, every year my same answer,” No, I will put them on after you go to bed.” I miss it. I miss us making every moment a beautiful memory. Thank you, baby, thank you. It’s so quiet. I don’t hear us. I don’t hear the sound of the holidays. I can’t hear my life. I don’t understand. #HeAlways
This is for you, Serena. With Love.
Article Written By: Janet Downs| Janet Downs is an instructor with over 20 years of experience, having worked with Fortune 500 companies and non-profit organizations. She volunteers and is a resource for the homeless community and is working towards starting her own non-profit. She’s passionate about mental health and seeks to bring more awareness to the black community. She is active in church ministry, a writer, and loves music, hiking, and travel.
