Missed Calls and UnSpoken Good Byes

Pi

Within six months, I lost two friends who had both been heavy on my heart—friends I kept meaning to reach out to but never did. Now I carry the weight of that silence.

The first was my dear friend, Saafir, who passed away on November 19th. What haunts me is that I was thinking of him at the very moment he transitioned. Later, I found out he had passed from something that could have been treated. That shook me.

Saafir and I met in the early '90s when we were both young, hungry, and chasing the dream. We respected each other’s pen—our rhymes, our bars—and we weren’t afraid to critique one another. That kind of creative trust is rare. Our bond was real, and it’s one I’ll always hold close. The second loss was the incredibly talented D’Wayne Wiggins of Tony! Toni! Toné!—one of the most humble and grounded human beings I’ve ever known. During that time, I had been bouncing between L.A. and the Bay to help take care of my mom. I remember thinking, I need to hit up D’Wayne, see if he’s in The Town, so we can catch up.

Before I could make that call, I saw the news: he was in hospice. I had no idea he was even sick. We had texted maybe five or six months earlier, and everything seemed fine. Losing him, without the chance to reconnect, hit me like a wave I didn’t see coming.

What I’ve come to realize—what I know now—is that when someone comes to mind out of the blue, that’s not random. That’s not just nostalgia. That’s the universe nudging you to reach out. It’s a reminder to be present, to check in, to reconnect.

So this is your sign:Pick up the phone. Make the call. Send the text. Don’t wait. Life is unpredictable, but love, when shared in real time, can be healing—for both you and them.

The second loss was the incredibly talented D’Wayne Wiggins of Tony! Toni! Toné!—one of the most h