Trumeda B.K.A.Meda

What can I say about meda...Well there is so much to say&stories to share.I will share a couple..I met Meda when I was 15ys.old. she was one of my sister bestfriends.Meda introduced me to her sisters&we all became close like family..Mr&Mrs.Jones took my sister &I into there home.they treated us family when we lost our parents.Meda wouldn't let No one bother me.We done so much together.when I was feeling down.She had her way of making me laugh..We done bad things  together &also good things together. She was my protector. In her latter days .I would see  her&she would ask me  the three thing she normally ask; then she would be like alright Maria I  love you.but I gotta  go..I would say dang Meda you getting to roll out  while I'm still talking&she would say yeah gurl I  gotta go.she would normally call me a bitch..& say bitch I love u but I gotta go&I would alright bitch 🤣as we use to call each other that when we were young.But as we got older we didn't  greet each other like that.The Jones sisters &I greeted each other like that;It was our way of expressing our love..It might sound crazy ;but that's how we done it.One thing is for sure No one else could call us a bitch or would be a problem. When I was told about my gurl transition to Heaven.it broke my heart&my heart is still crying .I know it's normal to have the feelings I have.I didn't see her the way I wanted to;but when we did see each other it was Always Love shown, good conversations, memories shared&a lot laughs...I will end by saying; U will truly be miss by me..But I understand that we are given to each other on borrowed time&Our Heavenly Daddy called his Angel back home.I know your resting..I love u Meda (my crazy gurl )is what I used to call you!!Until we meet again ❤ 💙 💖 

If Roses Grow in Heaven

If roses grow in heaven,

Lord please pick a bunch for me,

Place them in my Mother’s arms

and tell her they’re from me.

Tell her I love her and miss her,

and when she turns to smile,

place a kiss upon her cheek

and hold her for a while.

Because remembering her is easy,

I do it every day,

but there’s an ache within my heart

that will never go away.

Poem written Dolores M. Garcia 

❤️ In Rememberance of Meda❤️