Dorlisa was a young woman who dreamed big and lived by the values she believed in.
She loved movies, romance novels, spending time with family, and especially black angels, which, to her, symbolized hope, protection, and the promise that no one is ever truly alone.
She had a beautiful spirit and a heart that could light up a room with her smile.
We called each other "my ace boon coon," a phrase we made up that meant tighter than tight.
We weren't just brother and sister—we were best friends.
We laughed together, argued like siblings do, and sometimes bumped heads, but our lovefor each other never changed.
Through every joy and every hardship, our mother, Sarah, was the steady foundation of our family.
She was the rock that held us together, andwe were inseparable because, in many ways, we were all each other had.
My mom was more than a mother; she was both a mother and a father—a true warrior.
When my sister’s husband left, my mom stepped in, without hesitation, to help raise her two sons: James, the oldest, and Jermaine, the youngest.
She never complained or asked why.
She simply loved them with all her heart.
Her strength, sacrifice, and unconditional love carried our family through some of the darkest moments of our lives.
Then, at only 30 years old... everything changed.
My sister became suddenly ill.
The first hospital visit turned into a nightmare when she was misdiagnosed and sent home.
I remember that day like it was yesterday.
She was lying on the couch across from me, looking tired and scared, and quietly asked me for a hug.
Trying to lighten the moment, I joked and told her not to worry... that everything would be okay.
But deep inside, I felt something wasn't right.
We were all frightened, even if we didn't want to admit it.
Not long afterward, she was admitted to another hospital.
This time, the doctors discovered the truth no family ever wants to hear: ovarian cancer.
Those words hit us like a storm that changed everything in an instant.
Our world stopped.
Yet, through the fear, my mom, my sister, andI held tightly to our faith, our prayers, and the hope that somehow a miracle would come.
We spent countless days and sleepless nights traveling back and forth to the hospital, playing those same songs on repeat—"Prayer Changes" and "You Saved Me"—refusing to leave her side.
Sarah was remarkable.
She comforted my sister, cared for James and Jermaine, and somehow found the strength to hold the rest of us together, even while her own heart was breaking.
Watching her carry that burden with such grace is something I will never forget.
Then came the phone call that shattered our hearts.
My sister had slipped into a coma.
I can still hear her final words as clearly today as I did then.
With a soft voice filled with love, courage, and sadness, she looked at our mother and said,
"Momma, don't cry. It's going to be alright. I'm sorry for this burden. I won't be here to see them grow up, but please take care of James and Jermaine for me. You are all they have."
My mom’s tears fell without end, but through her pain, she made a promise.
She would love those boys, protect them, and raise them as if they were her own children.
It was a promise she intended to keep with every ounce of strength she had left.
As for me, I was left carrying a different kind of pain... regret.
I regret not realizing how serious her illness really was.
I regret the conversations we never had, the wordsI never spoke, and, most of all, the hug I never gave her when she asked for it that day on the couch.
It is a memory that has stayed with me through the years, reminding me never to take the people we love for granted.
Time moves forward, but grief has no calendar.
Some days, the pain feels fresh, while other days, the memories bring smiles instead of tears.
Through it all, I choose to believe that the black angels my sister loved so much are watching over her—and over us—guiding us through the darkest nights until we meet again.
This is my sister’s story.
Gone far too soon... but never forgotten.
Her life lives on through her sons, through our memories, and through every life she touched.
Until we meet again, Sis...
I'm sending hugs to Where Black Angels Wait.
I love you, always and forever.
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