This is not a poem
     As much as it is an open letter
     To the people I have loved



COVID19 is making loss feel so acute. It has me thinking about love and how
I may have loved you in this lifetime. Even now as I go through a divorce, 
no this is not about him specifically, nor is it about his rejection. It is 
more about how I loved in this lifetime.

I may have been the friend that flew across the country when your father 
passed away and slept on the floor with your family in front of the 
fireplace because there was a blizzard in NYC. But I cut veggies and 
cleaned the kitchen while listening to your aunts stories because I love 
you.

I may have called you in tears when your sister passed away, just to hear 
your voice and to remember our youth, and to reminisce about all the love 
we had, in the forms of parties, playing spades and drinking Pink Champale 
in the basement, all under her watchful eye because I love you.

I may have sent you a text, because your facebook did not say explicitly 
that your mom had died, but I knew enough to know something was wrong with 
you. And even though you did not respond, I may have sent you an 
encouraging quote, because I know you are going through it, just so you 
might find a breath of solace because I love you.

I may have talked you out of suicide that one night that I thought would 
never end, and fast forward thirty years later, we are still friends and I 
let you know again with my words how proud I am of you. Today you are a 
motivational speaker with an international brand and I still love you.

I may have called you after forgetting to call you back when I said I 
would, but every exchange we have had has always come back to the words I 
love you. You have been an endearing friend since the seventh grade and you 
are a constant reminder to me of how blessed I am to have you as a friend.

I may have made you and your family two dishes of mac and cheese when your 
sister died, because sometimes when I do not know what to do, I might just 
cook for you and your family as a token of my love for you, because I know 
right now simple things matter and I love you.

I may have quietly sent you a little change because you are in the hospital 
trying an experimental drug to fight COVID19 that is harming your body. I 
may have quietly made a contribution to your campaign because I believe in 
what you stand for and how you stand in your humanity. I may have sent a 
small monetary token to your wife's go fund me because she was trying to 
take her classroom on a trip where our kids could be proud of their 
heritage because I love you.

I may have not been in your wedding party, but on your wedding day did the 
50 minor tasks you assigned to me because I wanted your day to be how you 
intended it. I may have flown to the Caribbean to be a witness and to 
Chicago to witness the ending of that chapter because I love you.

I may have written you a poem when I did not even know you in person. 
Because how your life was taken was so unjust, and because your woman in 
her wisdom made it so the world knew your name. Because that poem was an 
expression of love and I will never forget you.

I may have run for office, become an advocate, made countless phone calls, 
taken meetings with this one and that, written proposals, and agendas, all 
out of my love for my people. In the midst of despair and doubt, denial and 
judgment, I devote that time and life energy because I love us.

I may have been that quiet soul that stood next to you one moment in time, 
extending a simple gesture, a kind word, a simple smile, to you because in 
this time I loved you. No matter where you are who you have lost, how you 
have lost, know I love you ... still.

In Dedicaton
LaVerne Hawes
Stacia Barton
Raymond Stone
#ADOS Fam
COVID19 Survivors