I feel like every single person, no matter who they are, deserves to be remembered.

Life is a precious thing. The older we get, the more fragile we become in so many ways. I was at work when I heard about Kim Porter’s death. The news of her untimely passing made me stop. And grieve. She wasn’t a relative. Or friend. In every way possible, Kim was a stranger to me but her death felt so personal, and painful.

Kim Porter passed away on 11/15/2018 around noon in her home in California. She was only 47 years old. She has four children. Quincey, her son with Al. B Sure, is 27. Christian Combs, 21. Her twin girls, 11 years old. Yes, she’s the ex of one of the most influential men in this country- but it’s not about that.

Her death was shocking. It caused me to be still and recognize my own mortality.

I grew up in New York. Diddy and Kim were like the Cosby’s to me. Unlike the Cosby’s, they weren’t a representation of what a perfect black family should be. Instead, they were the perfect representation of what black families around me really looked like. They were exciting to watch. Who wasn’t rooting for her.

Yes,they were imperfect.

But they were relatable.

They were a real life example of all the good and bad in love. Over the years, I’ve grown watching them evolve. Everything doesn’t have a perfect ending and it was refreshing to see them have very real people problems. Love. Kids. Co-parenting. And all the things that happened in between. We saw them grow. They taught us to always make your situation work for you.

It’s hard to ignore that Kim was young, 47 years old. Her grown sons need her. Her young daughters need her. I’m sure Diddy recognizes how much he still needs her too. Who didn’t stop for a second and think about their own children and how much work is still left to be done? Who didn’t stop to think about the fact that tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone, regardless of who you are?

I can’t imagine my kids growing up without me. I want to see my son realize all his dreams. He’s eleven and already has so many of them. I want to see what he looks like as a teenager. Will he look like me or his dad? I can’t really tell right now. What will his degrees be in? Or will he choose the military like his father? How many children will he have? What kind of father will he be? I think about my daughter. She’s six now but I dream about proms, graduations, careers, heartbreaks and weddings. I really want to be there for her. I want to protect and teach her. This is my joy in being a mom. I want all of these moments.

I want both my children to be happy and successful. I want to see them grow. I’m sure Kim woke up every single day with the same feeling. Then one day she didn’t wake up. What would all these moments feel like to my children if I weren’t here?

I’m overcome with feelings of distress, like many, over Kim’s death because I don’t ever want this to be my story. But it could be. So it makes me want to kiss my kids a little more. Hug them a little tighter. Appreciate life abundantly-ier, finding and living in my purpose.

Kim was dope. You would be hard pressed to find anyone that utters a bad word about her.

I hope her family finds solace and the world is kind to her children.

Be kind to Diddy too. Yes, he may appear larger than life to many but I’m sure he feels very human sized right now. Being a single parent is a humbling experience, regardless how much money you have.

Kim wasn’t just some mogul’s ex-girlfriend. She was an incredible mother and person. Now, she’s one hell of an angel too.

Rest in peace Queen.

And pray for Sean.

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