My sister Coco was an angel on earth. Not the kind you picture from a movie or a book; no big white wings or halo accompanied her. Instead, she had long, beautiful dark hair, a tattoo of a bearded lady on her arm and a purse packed full of miscellaneous items ready to hand to others when they needed anything—and I mean anything. Her own kind of angel she was.
She didn’t know a stranger. To know her was to gain a wonderful friend. She was a giver, a lover, a fighter and a dreamer. She was an incredible sister to all three of her sisters she tragically left behind at the age of 35.
On the morning on May 16, my sister went for a walk in the park, where she was followed, shot in the head and killed by her ex-boyfriend.
Coco will be deeply missed forever.