In Loving Memory of Simone

The person I knew the best.

Hi everyone.

No, thank you, I won’t need any tissue.

When I first started writing this, my opener was to ask you a bunch of questions about her, Simone. I told myself that, to stand before you today, to speak about a girl we all know, that it’d be my responsibility to get you to think of her the way you knew her. I wanted to spark your memories of her.

I deleted that draft.

I realized that I was avoiding having to share my own account of Simone, because I know that I know her better than everyone in this room. So I thought, maybe it’s be best, most gracious, to let her secrets die with her. To let her live on through your interpretations of her and not how she truly lived.

But that’s not my job today.

Today, I bear witness to the completion of a life that was beautiful and, at times, hard to live.

A life that either crossed paths or intertwined with yours.

My job is to tell you the truth.

The truth is, Simone was hard to love.

Not because she was wicked, though at most times annoying – I’m sure many of us here can agree. I put here in my notes that we all laughed politely in unison, so it’s safe to let a giggle out.

Simone was hard to love, for me, because I struggled to love her as she was. We were obsessed with her being the very best she could be. You know, Simone was ambitious like that. It was world domination and nothing less. But at some point I got consumed with her “best self”, that I pushed her. Hard.

It got to the point where best wasn’t good enough. Her ambition was strong though, she gladly pushed her finish line back, over and over again. But she started to get winded, burnt out, and exhausted. I watched as she broke down but I kept pushing.

Faster.

Stronger.

Better.

We were on the rocks back then too. Barely speaking. Shoot, I couldn’t even look at her most of the time. She was hurt and I kept thinking that it’d all be worth it, eventually.

One night, she was done. I had never seen her so fed up. In that moment God met us, sat us down, and saved her mind.

We had a short conversation after that. Which was the beginning of a long journey of figuring out our new relationship. Most people call it “self-love”, I just called it “peace at last”.

In reality, Simone wasn’t particularly “hard to love” anymore than the average person, at least in my experience. It was just that Simone would make it harder for herself – she was always so hard on herself even though she didn’t really need to be. But I’m grateful that’s not the reason we lay her to rest today.

Simone lived loving, herself included.

Something you should know about Simone, now that she can’t tell you herself. But she’d want you to know.

Simone was in constant battle with her own fear.

As a kid, it was more of a cautious personality. Her dad says Simone had a cut once, measure twice approach to her life. I found this helped her make good friends and few decisions with poor consequences.

At some point, though, something changed. Simone was measuring a lot and never cutting. She would think, then think again, and think a third, fourth and fifth time.

She thought a lot.

But that was also one of the best things about her I think. Simone thought about herself, the type of person she was and wanted to be. She thought about how to be a better family member, friend, student, adult, artist, writer, communicator, advocate, cook, driver, money-manger, reader, and stranger. But Simone thought about two things the most: her world domination plan and her relationship with God.

Regardless, she hit a stride where 9/10 she would think herself out of doing most things. Her logic: it was too complicated, too stressful, it wasn’t the right time, she wasn’t ready, or she wasn’t good enough.

But she was, good enough. Simone always was. I thank God that Simone completed her life empty. She did everything she was meant to do. And killed it too!

I’m most proud of her for that.

I share this with you because she didn’t love being seen as fearless. It made her feel like she was living a lie, because it was. Maybe she never confessed in life how scared she always was because she was to scared to, or needed to believe her fearlessness so she could achieve her dreams.

I’m not sure the answer. We never actually spoke about it.

We spoke a lot but not about everything – though very little went unsaid between us. With our small amount of unexplored conversations, Simone expressed with God and then left them with Him.

I couldn’t be everything for her; eventually I became okay with that.

Simone. Damn girl you’re gonna make me cry up here in front of all these people. We’re supposed to be too gangsta for that. Hey, that’s another thing you should know, Simone cried a lot. And it was ugly.

Ha! There, Simone we’re even. You make me cry up here and I get to embarrass you. But knowing you, now, that doesn’t bother you anymore. You fell in love with your tears – the most gangsta thing you’re ever done.

Well, I’ve been up here for way too long. I think I can hear Simone starting to roll over, I’ve been talking so long.

Anyways, Simone, she loved Canada Dry Ginger Ale.

She meant every compliment she ever gave.

She tried her best to make sure people felt her gratitude for them – so if she ever told you “Thank you”, know that, no matter what for, she meant that in the deepest part of her heart.

Simone loved summer nights. She said it was her favourite season. So, when you feel that cool-warm breeze on a nice summer night, think of her. I know I do.

And she loved you. If for nothing else, just you being here to hear the last chapter of her story.

It was an honour to share it with you.

And to share life with her.

In loving memory of Simone Racquel Brown, gone at the right time.

Thank you.