Why I Still Haven’t Visited Timile’s Grave Site



I posted this picture on Instagram on Friday afternoon.  Virginia had been on my mind heavily and I decided to share some of my thoughts.  A couple of friends of mine told me I need to stop playing around and visit Timile’s grave site.


If one had been the places that I’ve been they would understand.  I found out on Twitter Timile died.  The family from Buffalo wasn’t allowed to go to the funeral because they were told thay took Timile away from them.  In actuality, it was them who pushed Timile away.  The day after Timile died I recieved a text message from her phone in which someone was sending off conversations that were between Timile and I.  I never got a chance to say a proper goodbye.  I spent five months regaining custody of my daughter because Timile’s parents said they didn’t know where I was and not only had been given a subpoena with my address on it.  From what I was told, Timile’s homegoing services had been changed to a separate venue because people heard where services were being held.  I had been called a drug addict, an unfit father, a deadbeat dad, treated like I was nothing to this girl but sperm and the one who took her away from the protective bubble they had created.  Fuck no, I don’t want to visit…It’s just a body.

If the tables were turned Timile wouldn’t want to and probably wouldn’t visit me.  She was way more stubborn than I am.  If it took me nearly three years to even consider visiting; it would take her a good decade before she did.

Like I’ve said it’s just a body.  Timile lives through memory.  The part of Timile that is living and my daily love letter to her is the little girl that I got ready for school this morning.

I have made my peace.  I have forgiven Timile’s parents for putting me through the ringer.  It made me into the man that I am.  Yes, I am cynical, guarded, trusting of no one, and strategic about almost every move I make.  But that gives me something to improve upon.

There’s a silver lining in everything.  I had to become someone else in order to adapt to life after Timile left earth.  If I hadn’t been put through the fire there would be no blog.  In these last two years I have entertained many; but most importantly I have helped a lot of people along the way.

When I took the picture above I was leaving court in Virginia for the third and final time.  I didn’t want to come back to Hampton, Virginia.  It had left a bad taste in my mouth because I had been there for fighting, supporting Timile’s best friend in which her parents had pressed trespassing charges and would have charged Timile as well; cops called on me twice-once with Timile-for the trespassing incident-because I was taking Cydney and leaving the state with her…

I’ve been through some shit.  There’s no other way to say it.  The places that I’ve been these last four years almost anyone who could or would tell me to visit Timile’s grave couldn’t handle where I’ve been.  If I actually told many of these stories that I type with ease and casualty would make many cry if I did so in person.  What would probably be the most disturbing part about it is that I can do so as if it were simply a story I heard.  Clearly I am affected by all that has happened; but I refuse to let my past be a part of my present or future.

I have been seriously considering taking that trip to Hampton.  With as much that has been going on in my life I have felt that even though it is just a body I should do so for me.  The truth is I could have the same conversation with Timile Brown ate her grave that I could as I’m typing this…She’s not going to say anything back.  It would be for me.  So if doing so is for me than I’ll do it on my terms.


I took the last month or so off because there has been a lot going on.  There has been lots to talk about and I will be sharing my adventures again starting today.

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