My dead brother, Allen, came to see me.

The day before Mother’s Day my dead brother, Allen, came to see me. While getting my favorite beverage, iced tea (that’s right, my name is Da Juana and I’m a tea-aholic), he walked between me and my refrigerator.

That wouldn’t be so bad except for the fact that there was no space for him to walk. Cabinets touch my refrigerator and my brother who’s lost none of his height was at his six-foot-four tallness but with the body of his younger United States Navy Seal days. He looked great as all my girlfriends always attested and he enjoyed the fact that he caught me off guard.

I almost spilled the tea I was pouring when he crammed by me that day. In his usual Steve Harvey manner, really my brother’s manner, Steve Harvey is younger than he was when he died, Allen walked by, turned and smiled at me and said “Hi Sister.” It still makes me want to cry. Then he related that the reason for his visit is because Mother’s Day was the next day.

You see we more than grew up together. Sister means mother to him and to me.

At any rate his visit made me think once more of how great it is that I can have a dead-loved-one visit and can speak with them unlike most. That makes me happy and sad. That’s why I remind you to give all the love you can while you have them in the physical.

What’s funny is that he and my puppy both came around Mother’s Day.

I’m blessed.

Da Juana

P. S. I hope you had a wonderful Mother’s Day too!

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