Sending Our Condolences
By Eliza Vargas
There are so many words left unsaid. Moments on replay going through your head as you continue to think about the person you miss the most. With this section devoted to remembering and honoring those we’ve lost, we work on letting these words be free. Sending Our Condolences is the way to let go of these words, relive memories, and, in turn, say goodbye the way you have always wanted to. This page was started in honor of my brother who was murdered in the summer of 2017.
To Reesepuff and everyone else written about here--you are loved and missed.
By Eliza Vargas
There are so many words left unsaid. Moments on replay going through your head as you continue to think about the person you miss the most. With this section devoted to remembering and honoring those we’ve lost, we work on letting these words be free. Sending Our Condolences is the way to let go of these words, relive memories, and, in turn, say goodbye the way you have always wanted to. This page was started in honor of my brother who was murdered in the summer of 2017.
To Reesepuff and everyone else written about here--you are loved and missed.
To this day I still cannot believe that you are gone. Me and everyone at program are heartbroken. I still have all the dance videos we’ve done together. After your funeral I barely went to program because, to be honest, it’s not the same anymore.
The day before you got shot, me, you, and Eliza were chilling, having fun. We were planning on making more videos and actually making a real dance crew. I’ve tried to move on, but everywhere I go your name always comes up. I hate going on Instagram seeing “R.I.P. Reese”--like, half of these people don’t even know you. You were fighting for your life. Me and everyone at program had hope and positive mindsets. We knew that you were going to survive this, but you didn’t. Once I heard you passed away, my heart dropped and everything in me was gone. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be a dancer. You taught me everything. Keep dancing up there bro. I love you. Sincerely, Lamont Wright |
Dear Uncle Jamie,
I miss you. I didn’t get a chance to hug you, say I love you, or even say goodnight. I miss you. You waited until everyone was asleep, to take your last breath. I wish I had gotten to see your face, one last time. I was hurt, I don’t know why my mother wouldn’t take me to see you. She took Dj. I knew that even though you were dying, and I wasn’t able to see you, your love for me wouldn’t change. Why’d you have to go so soon? 08/07/96 - 01/30/14 Jai’Dyn |
Dear baby sister,
I miss you so much! Mommy and daddy miss you too. The whole family misses you and they love you so much. I really wish you could be here with us physically, but everything happens for a reason. I guess God felt that you would be better with him. I just hope that you are safe and comfortable forever. I can’t wait to see you. We love you. Rest in peace, Christina. Sincerely, Candyce |
Frances Barros 1934-2012
By Brookelyn Hazelwood 1/18 Aneurysm. What do you think when you hear that term? Well, I think of a life changing illness, but it really is a bulging, weak area in the wall of an artery that supplies blood to the brain. I never witnessed it happening to someone, but I witnessed the outcome in someone for years. My great-aunt, Frances Barros, had an aneurysm on the streets of New York when she was in her 20’s, and that’s when the hospital became her new home. It’s insane how a day out shopping with her sister in New York could turn into a life-changing moment and she was never the same after that. I was not born yet, but I remember hearing stories about how my grandfather used to drive to New York every day to visit his sister in the hospital for months and months. If you did not know, my grandfather lives in Hamden, Connecticut and the distance to New York is 181 miles or 3 hours, 8 minutes away. My great-aunt’s life was surrounded by family members, machines, and wires in her hospital room all day, every day, and there was nothing anyone could do to relieve her sickness. The type of aneurysm that she had was called a Brain Aneurysm, or a cerebral aneurysm, and it cannot disappear, but there are treatments such as medical therapy, neurosurgery, or seeing a neuroradiologist. I am not sure what option she chose, but I believe it was some type of therapy. Clearly it did not work very well if she was still sick for the rest of her life. It is hard to write about something I only know based on stories and not experience. The only thing I scarcely remember is the younger me sitting in front of my very sick great-aunt confused as to why she was always in the hospital, taking medicine all day, and always having her personal nurse taking care of her all day, every day. It was tiring for me as a little girl to be forced to go over my great-aunt’s house every day not knowing why I was there or what was going on with her or why she just appeared sick all of a sudden. I was clueless. Can you imagine being in your early 20’s and not being the same for the rest of your life? I said it was tiring for me to be there, but now that I am older I think about what she would have felt and the frustrations that may have circulated in her mind after the aneurysm. Being so young and watching your life flash so vividly and rapidly, to me, seems unfair. Her life was never the same. She was just as tired as the rest of my family was. But now, she no longer has to suffer any longer. |