I Miss You...RIP D'Mario Moreland

Dear Mario,

It feels as though this is long overdue. I've had so many thoughts of you, and there are so many things I've wanted to say to you but have not had the courage. But now is the time. I can't say I'm completely ready to acknowledge or accept the fact that you are gone, but God has his way of pushing us to step out on faith. He has a way of forcing us to face the things that hurt us the most, and that we have no control over.

Today marks the 1 year anniversary of your death. It feels so weird saying it, but it's true, you're gone. It's time that I learn to accept that so that I can find a way to move on. I don't mean move on in the sense of forgetting, as that will never happen. But move on in the sense of letting go of the guilt, questions, fear, and selfishness that has made it so difficult for me to live as I did once before. All the feelings that have not allowed me to celebrate your life, but have caused me to continually mourn.

You're no longer there for me to talk to when I call home home to check-in. Sadly, I wish I had called more often. No more stories of how you're growing into such a responsible man, and how you're finally finding your way in life. Sadly, I wish I would have come home more often to see if for myself. There are lots of things I COULD have done, and probably should have done better. And unfortunately, it' s too late.

June 13th, 2009 is a day I will never forget, while at the same time a day I've subconsciously refused to accept. The day I lost a part of me that I always knew existed, but somehow took for granted. And now it's too late. The day God called you home, the gift he had personally (yes personally) given me 18 years prior. A hole/void has remained in my heart and to an extent in my soul from that day on. It's not always easily detectable, but it makes its presence felt at the oddest times. Like in the middle of the Miami airport...lol. Or listening to a particular song, sitting in the car driving to work, talking to men that have the same skin tone, build, or have any characteristic that triggers a memory of you. The pain is once again felt.

Again, some of that is guilt. There's a part of me that wonder's what could have been had I been more involved? Had I been more visible? But I'll never know. It's too late to tell you how much I love you. Too late to explain that there was a method to my madness. That I continued to move and press forward because I wanted you and your sister's to know it was possible. That there was more to life than what existed in your "backyard". I wanted you to be proud of me, and to know that if I could make it beyond the odds that were set up against us...you could, and that that was my expectation. Be better than me, and I was trying to show you just how to do that. But now I wonder if you ever really understood that? Again, I will never know.

It's too late to tell you how proud I am of your growth, and how you've always made me smile. I'll never know if you knew just how much you meant to me. As I said in your obituary, I've aways seen you as a gift from God. I know everyone says that you were my "favorite", and to an extent that's true. But what they don't realize is why. You were born at a time when I understood what it meant to be an aunt. I was old enough to help, so there were times when I saw you as MINE. Refer to my statement earlier...a personal gift from God. So there was some ownership and responsibility that came into play early in your life, that for whatever reason stuck with me. You were also the only boy in our immediate family. Which meant you had different needs. It meant that you needed structure, and to be exposed to other men doing POSITIVE things. And I tried to bring my male friends and boyfriends around to positively influence you. And again show you, you had options. Some would argue I might be a little silly for using my friends (love you guys, lol), but they all turned out all right...and so did you! God is good.

If I'm going to move on completely, I have to be completely honest. There's been an internal battle going on with me ever since you went away. You see, I wasn't supposed to be home that weekend. Ticket prices were extremely high, and I worked for people who didn't want to let me go. But, I was able to find a last minute ticket and came anyway. My trip was delayed and I ended up sleeping in the Denver airport, so I lost one day of time with the family. But I made it home that Thursday evening, and prepared to see everyone Friday as usual. That Friday you came over with the rest of your family and we carried on as we usually do. Jazzy told me I'd gained weight...lol. Both you and Kiki were happy to see me...and I was happy to see you both. You showed me your new car, as you had purchased your own car with the money you were making at your job. One that you'd held for some time and had been progressing with nicely. You were so proud, and so was I. "My baby was growing up!"

What was different about this visit was that for some reason we decided to take pictures. We're not some Kodak family, (other than Auntie L :) ), so it was a bit unusual. But we obliged and took pictures with one another to capture the visit. You didn't stay long, why I'm not entirely sure now, but I expected to see you again before I left that Sunday. I can't remember if I told you I loved you before you left. And I don't remember if I gave you another hug and kiss...but I'd never have the chance to again. I remember getting the call from my mom about you being involved in an accident. I remember falling to the floor and feeling as if my heart had fell out of my chest. I remember riding home with my line sister's in silence knowing what I was walking in to. I remember seeing paramedics on TV performing mouth to mouth with no luck. I remember how I felt knowing you were gone...

Back to the battle. So I've been struggling with why this happened to you, KNOWING I'll never know the answer. I suppose that is the human side of me acting out. I've struggled with why God would take someone I loved so dearly, who seemed to have so much potential, and to be "on his way". I know God makes NO mistakes, but it's so much easier to say that than to feel it when you are in pain. And I was and still am in a lot of pain because you're gone. I've never cried this much in my life, and cannot fathom having to deal with this pain my entire life. It just seems so draining and unproductive. Lol. Yes I said unproductive, I work in HR. :) But seriously, it doesn't make anything better or your absence felt any less.

On the other hand, I thank God every day for allowing me to see you one last time before he called you home. I KNOW that was him showing me mercy, because he knew what I/we were about to go through. So I am thankful for that. Lord only knows what would have happened to me had you passed and I had been somewhere else. I'd hate to imagine. He also allowed me to be strong when your mom, my mom, and other members of the family were weak. I was able to be a support system to them while planning the funeral and figuring out what to do next. He blessed our family with my family in Delta who from the night I received the news, to the funeral, and even today, was right there with us. They helped us raise money for the services, they wiped away tears, they prayed, and they sat there with us so we wouldn't feel alone. He blessed us with church family that were prayer warriors and spiritual support systems when we just didn't have it in us. He blessed us with community out pour and support when they heard of the young man with the "infectious smile" who had tragically passed. He blessed us with seeing family, Grandpa, that we hadn't seen in years.

Again, God is good and I thank him immensely.

So you see, I'm conflicted. I know God is never wrong, I know he blessed me and the family, but for some reason I haven't been able to cling to him like I know I should. I know that true peace lies with him and comes from him. But it's been hard to know how to move forward. What makes it so much worse is when anyone else has lost a loved one or friend, the FIRST thing I've done is tell them to trust in God and cling to him. So I'm also a hypocrite. I'm trying to work through it, but it's taken some time. It's been a year, and I don't know if I'm any closer today than I was the day you passed away. But I also know that God knows my heart and is allowing me to go through this for a reason. I just hope that I can make him proud of me, rather than disappointed in me.

A friend told me earlier this week that you wouldn't want me to feel the way I feel, or to be suffering the way I've recently been suffering. And it made me stop and think. She was right. You were always smiling, you always found a way to spin things positively. When we talked, even about the hard times you went through, the conversation always ended on a brighter note. During your last years I saw a change in you that many men don't make until they are well into their late 20's. You were more responsible, you knew what you wanted and went after it, and you stopped letting others guide your decisions. I was so proud of you, and you were so happy. It was a beautiful thing to see and be apart of. You had become a man.

So why am I walking around sad, teary eyed, and afraid to connect with anyone new because you're gone? Why have I pushed certain people away that make me think of you? I know that's not what you want for me, or for anyone else for that matter. You'd want me to be happy that I'm still here, and have a life to live. Because my journey is not yet over. You'd want me to do the same things I did for you for Jazzy, and for Anthony...the son you never got to meet. You'd want me to continue living my life as if you were here, because you are in my heart and in memories. You'd want me to celebrate your life, and all the wonderful things you've done. And most of all you'd want to run as fast as I can BACK to God, because if I want to ever see you again it'd only be by his grace and mercy.

And deep down I know you're right.

So today, as I type through tear filled eyes, I am going to make a commitment to you. I'm going to work on accepting that you are no longer here with me physically, but that you have never left me and won't leave me in the spiritual sense. I'm going to live my life to the fullest, and continue to do the things that once made you so proud to call me your "Aunt TT". And made you tell your friends about me. I'm going to be a better daughter, sister, aunt, niece, and friend because you've showed me the importance of self improvement. And lastly, I'm going to stop running/hiding from God because I know that he makes no mistakes, and that his ways are not like mine...so I'm not supposed to understand. I'm supposed to accept life for what it is, and make the best of it.

You know I never cry. Mostly because I don't deal with feelings well, but also because it forces me to be vulnerable which is something I don't like doing. But today I'm giving myself permission to cry, to yell, and to scream if needed when I feel as if the hurt is unbearable. I've learned that holding it in will only give me high blood pressure, headaches, and potentially cause me to crash my car. Lol. But honestly, I'm learning it's ok to acknowledge my feelings and pain. But what is not ok is for me to allow them to cripple me, or to allow them to set me back. That is not of God, and that is not what you would want. So it makes no sense to "do it in honor of you". So from this day forward, I will not.

Some days it's hard to look at myself in the mirror, because I see your face. It's hard to look at pictures of you because they trigger memories of you. But again, today I pledge to stop running from reality and to embrace it. I look like you for a reason, so whenever I need a reminder it's there...in my face. :) The pictures capture memories of happiness, not pain. So I need to allow them to serve their purpose, celebrate the good times. Because there were many. It won't be easy, and I'm sure there will be a few hiccups along the way. But I've set the goal, and I'll be aiming for it daily.

It took me 3 days to complete this letter, because at times I had no words, at times I couldn't breathe between sobs, and at times I just didn't want to think about you being gone. But I've made it through. I am going to hold on to that as a small victory . It shows me I can push through my fears and pain, and that healing is possible. I know it's a journey, not a destination, and that some days will be harder than others. But you have to continue pushing on.

I miss you Mario. More than you know, and more than I can put into words. I miss you more today, than I did yesterday. But I know you are in a better place, and that there is purpose in what I am going through. I love you, and always will.

Love Always and Forever,

Auntie "TT" (your twin)