Dear Lisa,

Background on this post: I would like to first start off by saying I was challenged to do this post by another blogger. When I say challenged- we both wanted to write about something that we did not necessarily want to share. We feel this will challenge us as bloggers, writers, and well…. as humans.


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Dear Lisa (Timesha),

To say I miss you would be an understatement. It doesn’t properly communicate the empty feeling of despair I feel knowing that you are gone and never coming back. But then there are days where I am oddly at peace with the fact that you are gone. Because good things or people never seem to stay around for long.


I wish I could say I was coping with your death well. I always thought I was a strong person that was until I lost you. Now I see that I was just numb, I’ve always been good at making myself not feel things. I thought I could just push you out of my mind like I’ve managed to do every other shitty thing that’s happened in my life.

Im usually pretty successful until my body has had enough of storing my emotional bullshit and purges it out in days filled with tears, no appetite to eat, and naps that start off as such but slowly turns into full day sleep-a-thons.

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What life feels like since you’ve been gone

I deal with feelings of confusion mainly at being angrier at myself than the person that took you from this earth.

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And it’s crazy because normally I have a terrible memory but for some reason can remember EVERY (my insults were pretty basic) single mean thing I ever said to you. Every time I should have been there for you and I wasn’t, and it cuts like a knife. I really hope you knew how much I loved you. How when I didnt want to live for myself anymore I held on for you, for them. Thats why it hurts so much it was you. I spent so much time not wanting to be here while you spent every minute living.

and It isnt fair.



I replay how many times I would see you and tell you, you needed to get back in school. I just wanted you to be great!

Who knew that an acceptance letter to your dream school with a  scholarship to sing in the gospel choir would have resulted in you no longer being here.



I read the comments on the numerous articles that wrote about what happened (I know I probably shouldnt have). It broke my heart to think that you were now one of the many faces added to the roster of “Blacks killed by blacks” a phrase that white people like to use casually in an attempt to justify why there is no justice or equal treatment for the large majority of us under the law.

She was NOT just another black woman killed by a black man. She was a daughter, a granddaughter, a cousin, a friend, my sister, and a beautiful person in general.

The news portrayed your story as a domestic violence situation gone bad to worst. I guess trying to figure out the truth would have been to much work.

In reality, you hadn’t even been in Florida for over a month and had a boyfriend here. I HATE how they tried to tarnish your name, your image.

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Right to left: Lisa, Chanavia, me

What’s crazy is the day that I found out I KNEW something was wrong I just felt it, you were on my mind all day. I was wondering why you hadn’t responded to the scriptures I had been sending you since we last talked on Sunday.

I pulled into my apartment complex at the same time Chanavia was getting out of the car (My older sister- we lived in the same apartment complex) and asked her if she talked to you. She said she hadn’t and then a couple of hours later was knocking on my door telling me you were dead. 

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I was knocked out, and you know my phone is always on dnd. I woke up to almost 30 missed calls, and someone knocking on the door. I groggily got up, stumbled to the door and there was Chanavia, Johntae, and Jordyn.

Chanavia was balling crying, Jordyn was being herself, and Johntae looked sad and confused like he didn’t know what to do (the same look my boyfriend would have when he visited later). I have so, so many regrets. I should’ve hugged her and we could’ve cried together but instead, I told them I was going back to bed (and yes I literally went and got back in the bed).


Lisa, you know I’m hella weird with how I process stuff so I lay there trying to go back to sleep then I’m like wait what? I get on Facebook and I see stuff like:


and a million other posts like it and I’m like what the fuck?

And then I see posts like this:


“What he did in that apartment, he basically assassinated the young ladies,” Chitwood said. “The young ladies were shot point-blank range. They were head shots. And our male victim in the hospital right now has at least three shots to the face and head area. (wftv)”

and then:


Yay, great, awesome!

We would not be one of those families that never sees justice.

but before we could even process the news………………


Yup. The coward took two lives and then his own.


My emotions regarding the situation were pretty much:





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Because wtf was the point?!!!

Why did he do this to you?

You of all people!?

Please help me to understand! 

My only comfort in this situation is knowing that even though you only got to roam this earth for 21 years you lived, more than I ever have in my 25.

My sweet little sister who probably never had a bad day until the day she was murdered. Whenever I get worked up I hear her voice in my head saying “Cheriseeeeeeee calm down its not that serious!” (because Im always upset or snapping about something)


IG picture of Lisa wondering why she does not have any eyebrows 04/12/14

Since the day my sister from this earth I’ve learned that grief comes in waves. Small gentle waves that make you think of the good times. And then there are other times when its like a tidal wave ready to crash down and destroy everything in its path.

Its so weird that its not your birthday or the anniversary of your death that brings me to uncontrollable tears. But those random moments when just briefly I forget you are no longer here and want to share a joke or call you with family gossip so we can laugh (because thats really all we ever did together was laugh)

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Almost every memory I have of you is a pleasant one because you never let anyone steal your joy. Even though I was older I always admired that about you, your resilience, your ability to just let stuff go without a second thought!

I mainly miss laughing with you.

Trying to make sure you didn’t end up in Alice of Wonderland or somewhere because you were just that dingy was always a full-time job.

It  never stops being funny to me that you SERIOUSlY wanted to sing opera.

Chanavia wanted to be a social worker, I wanted to be a teacher or doctor, Devon wants to be a veterinarian, Saundre wants to be a nurse,

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(Hypothetical us)

and then there’s you who wants to sing opera……..

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But we all supported you anyway.

You had to be in the building the day of your funeral.


It was live, like a lit ass funeral concert (she would find this funny). I couldnt even be sad because the whole church was milly rocking to Bethune Cookmans Choir.





(just kidding- but that wouldve been cool right?). I hope you enjoyed the standing ovation we made them give you. Since you’d never have the pleasure of singing your heart out to a packed room of people that love you and adoring fans…. we felt it was only right.



And you deserved it………..

 Leaving you at that cemetery was the hardest thing Ive ever done in my entire life.

If only you knew how bad I wanted to hop out of the car and run back and grab you out of that casket. But Im the strong one right?

So I just took this picture instead……

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The last day I ever got to see you in the flesh. I just want you back man!

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The day you left Michigan I was so depressed over my divorce I didnt even feel like leaving the house. But I knew I had to come see you. When I got to mama house they said you already left.


But then… You came back because in typical Lisa fashion you forgot something. You were almost going to miss your flight and you didnt have time to talk so  I took this picture of you. How happy am I that even if only briefly, I got to see you the last day you were alive in Michigan.

Lisa running off to her future (or fate), going to  Florida alone to chase her dream.


I know that white mist in my room was you girl. Your way of letting me know you’re still here, and that you made it to heaven.


I used to be afraid of death, but now Im just patiently waiting on the day I get to see you again.

When the days without you get unbearable, I choose to smile anyway… because I know you would…..

So save a seat for me!

Forever missing you, forever heartbroken. 

P.S -Come see me soon.

Your little-big sister,




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TimeshaLisa” Floyd-Carswell 



Published by


Cherise is an entitled millennial whose parents told her from birth she would be great. This drive to be great has caused her to excel academically receiving two degrees at the age of 25 and $85,000 of debt. She still has no (insert cuss word) clue on what to do with her expensive degrees or her life in general. You can typically catch her dodging calls from Sallie Mae, sleeping, or updating this blog. To read more about Cherise and her experiences navigating the scary world of adulting click one of the links on this blog.

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