Open Doors — Rest In Peace

I want to know your every move and if you think we are as alike as they say. I sure hope so. I want to know what you would say when I'm sad, if you'd laugh when I laugh, hurt when I hurt. I'm sure you would.  

I'm sure you would guide me through the clouds until I was sitting with you on the sun, looking down on everyone looking up at you. When I stop to think about it, I'm positive you are my guardian angel and it all makes sense. I understand that you have been holding my hand in your absence. You really do lead me to the light and I thank you for that because I know you would want nothing but the best for and from the babygirl that you let into your room when no one else could. I want you to know my door is always open for you, as is my heart.  

But this isn't about me although I know you wouldn't want this to be about you today. But it is because we all wish you were here to still laugh with us, cook with us, smile with us and appreciate every second of every day as you once did. I know you would want us to live with passion and love because the second it's over we will never know what we could have had. We can't let it get too late to do what we've always wanted to. You inspire me so often and I know you would want me to take care of the little girl you loved, the little girl you love, so dearly. I'll do that for you. 

I know you are resting in peace, I would expect nothing less but peace from you. 


Originally written two years ago in memory of my late uncle who was like a father to me.

Jerome Carrington

June 3, 1963 — August 13, 1993