October 17th marked one year since my oldest sister passed away from an AIDS related cancer. My sister was the glue that held our family together after our grandmother passed just three months after Hurricane Katrina.
She made sure she was always in the loop about everything happening in my life, medical appointments, hospital stays, mental health struggles, even my time in jail. Whether she was near or far, she wanted to understand what I was going through so she could help however she could. That was my "Blackie." That's what I called her, tall, dark-skinned, and often wearing a mean mug that made her look unapproachable. But once she let you in, she loved you fiercely. Continue reading...
