Life,  Memoir,  Non-fiction

Someone Murdered Brandon: Funeral Day

I woke up this am thinking Dana and I would wake up some where else, New Orleans. I guess recapping the current event’s, heartbroken for the family that has suffered the loss of a loved one that we see pictured on the screen.  

We are that family, once again.  Dana is that mother saying, ” they took my baby”, his children are those kids the reporter lady is saying will grow up without a loving father, Corey is that mad broken big brother, who has “should-da, would-da and could-da” on repeat in his mind, we all are left once again to mourn the murder of my  family, my cousin Brandon. 

If anyone out there thinks this is normal, please know it’s not. I know God wouldn’t want us to experience the hurt, this pain. This is a crazy pain, it just took up residence in my heart and it checks out, but he, the devil thinks he can keep on taking my family, but I have something for his butt.

Oh hell No, you, you devil, you nothing of nothing, you have no business around my loved ones any longer. I rebuke you satan you are cast deep deep in the sea to never return. This is ending now. We have to stop the violence. We have to do better as a community of the world to stop these people who think they can just take a soul of the earth? Do they know who they took from us? We had to stop the killings, all of them. 

Dana is trying really hard to not break in front of people and  possibly her very own reflection. I’m thinking I could rest a lil longer since we woke up early.  She’s scooting me in the bathroom, reminding me of our host needs. So, I’m up and Dana is still Dana and the jokes keep coming.

Native of New Orleans, who endured 20yrs cruel Minnesota Cold, I decided at 42yrs old it was time to pack up my then 6yr old and come back to my roots. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans. I was a 16yr old teen mother of a preterm 2lb baby girl born with a disability. With the help of my mother who had her own struggles. We survived the obstacles laid before us. I'm the proud mother of three children with two failed adoptions, as well as a grandmother of three, two grandsons and a granddaughter. I survived two abusive marriages. I successfully ran a soulfood restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I started creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul.  He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute.  I put my all into my cake business over the years as House of Cakes was started right out of my house in honor of him. I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, foster/adoptive mother at that, being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me in a sense; but most of it poisoned my heart and soul. I had a broken heart and I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home,  myself, my New Orleans. I'm here and I'm loving it. Even being in the so called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy. I am determined that She, yes New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up! I'm down in the boot, but I know I have a nice floppy hat awaiting my destiny...

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