In September of 2015, I got news that made my heart drop. Papa had passed due to his chronic COPD in an episode at three in the morning. My grandmother told us, “He woke up not being able to inhale, I called an ambulance after he said, “I’m goin’ down”. He was pronounced dead at the hospital with his lungs full of fluid.” All I could think, was the last time I saw him and how he still had many goals left which would have been attained soon. He was too kind, selfless, and entertaining to have his life end. Two days after getting the news, we flew up to Illinois for the funeral services. The weather seemed cliché for a funeral; it was a cold, gloomy, and rainy September week. During the evening, the minister of the Saunemin Methodist church
