It weighed heavy on my heart, that last and final phone call. Something about that day just seemed so peaceful. The weather was cold but for once, it didn’t bother me. My cell typically had no service on my college campus but that day, it did. My phone buzzed and I answered.
“Hello?”
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Nothing, I was heading to a bible study. What are you up to?”
“Nothing. Looking ugly, the usual.”
We talked about the mundane, as always. She was good about calling just to chat - a character trait of hers that I’d pick up later on in life. I sat comfortably on the cement steps listening to her go on about how she was ready to purchase a Macbook Pro. She was excited about planning weekly FaceTime sessions with me that would ultimately never happen.
As our conversation drew to a close, I hung up the phone and proceeded to walk. With each step that I took, a weight on my chest began to grow. I shook my head ignoring the thoughts that began to enter my mind.
“Call her back.”
The first one.
I wondered if there was some information that I was meant to relay that I hadn’t. Maybe it’ll come to me in a moment.
“Call her back.”
The second one.
This time, a little more bold in authority.
The weight in my chest began to grow even more deeply as I neared the Environmental Science Building.
I shook my head again.
What’s wrong with me?
Am I crazy right now?
As I approached the building, I reached for the door handle and that’s when it happened.
“CALL YOUR SISTER BACK RIGHT NOW AND TELL HER THAT YOU LOVE HER!”
It felt like my soul leaped out of my body and was staring at me in distaste. What on earth is this I am experiencing? It seemed so real, this voice in my head. It was more urgent than the first and second times leaving me frightened and anxious. I entered the building, dropped my bags on a chair in an effort to secure my seat and stepped into the hall.
I dialed her up.
“Hello?”
“Hey. I forgot to tell you that I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The weight disappeared. Completely vanished.
What was that about? I thought it was strange too.
Two nights later, she was in my dream - she and her husband actually. They smiled and laughed while browsing around in a home improvement store. I stood nearby with my mom and brother as we looked on.
She peered over at me and I asked, “What are you doing?”
She replied, “We’re getting a new home.”
Morning.
A series of alerts coming from my cell phone sounded off minutes after I woke up. The sky was cloudy as rain fell at a constant rate. The sun somehow managed to peek through them, giving off rays of joy that casted across the walls of my bedroom.
I flipped my phone over and saw over 100 missed phone calls and text messages from family members that I hadn’t spoken to in months - maybe even years.
Oh crap.
I searched the call log frantically looking for my moms number, growing more and more weary as I couldn’t find her name. Tears began to fill my eyes as confusion became my crown.
I noticed I didn’t see anyone’s name of immediate family. Not my mom, brother, sister, aunt or cousin.
Frustration filled me so I logged into Facebook and that’s when I saw a glimpse of it.
“I’m so sorry for your loss”
“Please pray for our family”
“Rest in peace”
No. No. No and NO.
I could’t see past the tears coming on to try to make sense of the blurbs.
I called my mom, relieved when I heard her voice on the line…
“I’ve been trying to reach you”
“Mom. What happened?”
“It’s Sharletha. She’s been shot.”
My tears leaped over my tear line.
“What hospital is she in?”
“No, she’s dead.”
I hit the floor running.
What do you mean dead? I just talked to her two days ago.
How?
Why?
Who?
When?
I was filled with more questions than answers.
Disbelief.
Several minutes later I wiped away my tears and began to chew on the facts.
My sister was gone.
That voice inside of my head two days prior to this moment knew that her ending would be coming soon, confirming her new home to me in a dream the night before her demise.
Life comes at you so incredibly fast.
These events took place almost 7 years ago but I can still feel the exact emotions that clothed my existence on that February morning.
When was the last time you told someone that you loved them and really took the time to melt into that moment?
For me, it doesn’t come as often as it should, especially having endured the unthinkable. It’s a fear that’s embedded deep within me, that if and when I say the words - it’ll be the last. I know this isn’t true, but for the sake of turning this scene into a moment of hope I’ll say this - never hesitate to let down your walls. We all have a number we must answer to when it’s called. Let the dash from your date of birth to death be filled with love. positivity and peace. Learn to love people while you have them and not be filled with regret when the expiration date approaches.
I have a soft spot for victims of domestic violence and the mentally unstable whose minds are plagued with thoughts of murder. I go hard for those who don’t know how to handle their anger and frustrations in a healthy manner. My heart breaks just thinking of the internal battle they endure, a fact in why her perpetrator is worthy of my tears. It’s a big reason in why I chose ministry, letting God use me to be a voice of reason on His behalf for those who need Him most.
While her voice is forever silenced, I won’t tire of telling bits and pieces of this story. It’s been years now, yet I choose to release the fine details that led up to that day. This is one keystroke of a massive giant that’s ready to be unleashed. I don’t share this to bring back any anguish to anyone, but more so to continue to find my own freedom and peace of mind as the effects of a murder suicide linger and has its way with the way I love others.
How do I do it? I don’t.
What I didn’t tell you was that moments after confirmation, my bible app sent me this verse of the day:
You intended to harm me but God intended it for the good of what’s now being done, the saving of many lives - Genesis 50:20
Like I said, that voice, who I still believe was God… He knew.