I had a conversation with Marciana today. We were sitting in the river, watching Beau play, and I finally had the courage to ask her to go through your last day in detail. It was harder than expected. I felt an unreasonable anger at her for letting you die. It wasn’t her fault at all, but that hardly matters. She wasn’t asleep and woke to find you not breathing as I had thought. She said she was awake, your head on her shoulder, she was listening to you breathe with difficulty. She was waiting to catch you if you coughed and needed help. You were coughing a lot. She blamed it on smoking. I don’t know any smokers who require supervision to sleep… so she knew you were abnormally sick enough to need monitoring. But she didn’t call for help? Why not? She said your coughing stopped and she felt relieved that you might finally get some peaceful sleep. But then she realized you stopped coughing because you were no longer breathing. She said she was thankful her roommate was a nurse because she didn’t know what to do. She called for the roommate. I felt so angry and sad when I looked at her, I couldn’t think of any words of comfort so I said nothing. We sat in silence for long moments before Mama spoke up and assured her it wasn’t her fault.

I raised you so carefully! I was always present. I was always loving. You never had to wonder if you were loved. I made that so clear through both words and actions. I showered you with care, attention, affection, loyalty, love, sweet songs, guidance, good nutrition, gentle correction.

You were so sweet and caring. I remember many bowls of chicken noodle soup you fixed for me on a bad day. You were a lovely young child, who turned into an affectionate young boy, who transformed into a responsible and dedicated young man. And I miss you more than you will ever know.

Granddaddy misses you too. So does your Aunt CeCe. And your cousin Jeorgia who tries so hard to take your place for me, And Aunt Fraya. And poor Jacob, who has to visit all the same places you used to work. And Granny… she misses you like you were her own child. She always said you were the best houseguest she’d ever had when you stayed with them during summers. 

We all rooted for you, prayed for you, loved you, appreciated you.

And now? We miss you. We’re just broken.

That’s it, just broken.