Laughter, Rock N’ Roll, and Love…

How do you honor someone that had a big impact in your life? How do you honor someone who more than likely changed the course of your life with their compassion and support?I’m not sure, but here’s my attempt. I’m writing it here (on my blog), because you always read it. Deb this is for you… 

Laughter, Rock N’ Roll, and Love… Those are the words that come to mind when I think of you. I honestly can’t even think of you, without hearing your big boisterous laugh. Your laugh was how I knew you were in the building when I walked in for my shift. It also let me know if you were in a good or bad mood.

Laughter, Rock N’ Roll, and Love…I met you in the Fall of 2012, I remember because it was my last semester at Cal. I was so out of place, but I needed to work in order to continue studying. I was told “If she likes you, you’re good.” No pressure, I really wasn’t sure what to expect. I had never been to the Fillmore nor heard of it. Don’t @ me, I’m from East LA. Anyway, I was put outside, I was to search folks as they made their way in. Now that I think of it, I wonder if you put me out there so your Sissy could keep an eye on me. Hmmm… 

Either way, I didn’t care. I needed this job and most importantly I needed you to like me. Which means that I searched and fondled those poor people as if my life depended on it. In a way- it did. I’m not sure if I was good (although, I would like to think I was,), or if you got a kick out of the effort I put in, or all of it. But you added me to the schedule…

Laughter, Rock N’ Roll, and Love…Even when I wasn’t on the schedule you called me when people were needed or projects popped up and extra help was needed at the venue. You knew I was in school, you knew I needed the money. 

Because of your support, I felt less alone in an extra difficult time of my life. She and Dina would give me rides to work sometimes, we would meet up, and ride in together. When they couldn’t, they would help me get a ride even though I had a car. If they weren’t going in, they made sure I had someone to ride with. I’m sure it was because of the carpool discount, but it meant more than that for me. It made me feel cared for. 

I know I wasn’t the typical person you would find working there, but Deborah never made me feel like I didn’t belong.

Deborah left the Fillmore before I did. But once she did, it was never the same. I know I’m not the only one that felt this way.

Laughter, Rock N’ Roll, and Love…after I left the Fillmore, we lost touch. Life happened, and I went about my journey. Then out of the blue one day, on Linked-In of all places. She sent me a message regarding one of my Blog Posts, she wanted me to know how much she enjoyed it.  After that, she would always comment on my posts, and give me some love. 

I don’t think she ever knew how much that meant to me, I told her each time. But I don’t think she really-really understood what it meant to me. She would actually take the time to read and then write me a note to tell me what she thought, as well as get others to read it. Everytime I wrote, I would think to myself “I hope Deb likes this one”.

Then one day I noticed I hadn’t heard from her in a while, I was like “maybe she doesn’t like what I’ve been writing lately”. Then I find out she’s sick, that was a kick in the gut.

I thought I had more time. I was going to plan a trip to visit her. I hesitated in the planning because I was worried she would think it was weird? But she has to be okay with weird, right? I mean she worked with a lot of weirdos-beautiful wonderful weirdos. 

I thought I had more time. I somehow convinced myself I had more time. I had somehow convinced myself that someone with a laugh so full of life would live forever. She’s Deb-she has to live forever. 

I still remember that dreadful moment, I received the news of her passing. I was on a zoom call, and got a message from a friend, “So sad about Deb”. “What do you mean?” was my immediate response. Then she tells me the words I dreaded to hear. The words that I had convinced myself would never come “she died”. I went off camera. I started crying. I thought I had more time. I never told her. 

I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t work. I thought I had more time.I didn’t tell her. I didn’t tell her how the extra hours she got me helped me avoid being homeless my last semester.  I didn’t tell her how the extra hours made it possible for me to continue organizing and advocating for what I believed was just. I never told her how our rides together really helped me out, because I didn’t always have money for bridge tolls. I never told her how her support meant the world to me. I never got to tell her how f’n bad ass I thought she was. I never told her how I always admired her grit, how she was such a damn tiny human, but had a larger than life presence. I never got to tell her how her support helped me get out of a depression because I was so scared of not graduating and that my sacrifice of leaving my family behind was all for nothing. I was so scared of going back home with nothing to show for it. 
But you see Deborah, with your support I am where I am now. Because of your support, I was able to graduate. I didn’t return home empty handed. When it was time for me to return to my family, I returned with two degrees-a Bachelor’s and a Master’s, and a baby (but that’s a whole different story). The Master’s wouldn’t have been possible, without the Bachelor’s, which wouldn’t have been possible if you hadn’t given me a chance. 

Things were really dark for me during that time I met you. Which is why I believe that without that chance, I would  have eventually given up. Without that chance I wouldn’t be doing the amazing work I’m doing today. Without that chance, my life would have taken on an entire different course. Deborah without you, there would have been no chance. 

I thought I had more time to say Thank You! I don’t know why you did it, but you gave me a chance. Even when I didn’t work for you anymore, you supported me. Telling me how you enjoyed reading my posts. That’s big, some of my BFF’s don’t even do that- I might need new friends, right? 

I just heard your laugh, writing that. 

I’m sorry, I lost touch. I’m sorry, I didn’t give you your flowers when you were alive. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to face the fact that your time on this earth was limited. I’m sorry for letting my fear get in the way of saying goodbye. I’m sorry, I didn’t get to introduce you to my son-you would have loved him-he’s wild and a little Fillmore weird. Deb, he wore a top hat and tie to school in Kindergarten. Not in honor of President’s Day, but simply because it was Tuesday!. 

Again, I hear your laugh. 

I’ll say what I didn’t say then, now. Thank you. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for taking a chance on me. Thank you for looking out for me. Thank you for calling him an idiot and still being my friend when we broke up (you know who I mean). Thank you for always putting me inside when you knew I was a fan of the bands. Thank you for supporting my writing. Others have told me that you were proud of me, thank you for that too. 

Laughter, Rock N’ Roll, and Love…

Deborah, like Rock N’ Roll you are eternal. Your body might have left us, but you my dear are eternal and will forever live in our hearts and minds.  

You are the light that will never go out.