The Things You Would Have Said
Month
Dear Dad,
At this time last year, midterms crested over top of me and all I could do was focus on the fact I would see you over my Spring break. Unfortunately, seeing you so small and helpless when I came home made it really hard to be around you. To see you break open and bleed, covered in tumors, hardly able to take care of yourself some days – well, let’s just say it broke something inside of me.
You taught me that people die in stages, parts at a time, whether physical, mental or spiritual. I watched you waste away for two years, watched you slowly disappear under knife, stress and disease. I wonder how long death takes most people, if it’s not accelerated by cancer?
I wish I could get rid of the images of the men in dark suits, faces carefully neutral, carrying you out of the house. As if you were some sleeping child. As if my hero, my strength, my pillar, my example could be reduced to this unmoving flesh bundled in pajamas. Worse, I wish I had never watched your ashes swirl away into the lake. Now, when I try to picture your smile, or remember your voice all I get is a cold, gray whirlpool that wisps away in my mind.
I promised you I would be okay, but Dad, I don’t know if I can stand by my word. At least not right now. It’s been a little less than a year and I still cry almost every day. I still get this insane feeling you are about to pull up on your Harley or come out of my back room. Hell, at your funeral, I expected you to hop from the back hall, prosthetic leg brandished above your head, yelling like a mad man and laughing at all of our tears. I wanted you to explain how all this was a joke, reminding us how silly we all should be because none of this is really all that serious.
But it is serious, now. I feel like that all the fun and adventure and triumph in my life has been drained away. I can’t even go out anymore; the thought of being around other people makes me sick to my stomach. The thought of losing it around other people, that thought makes me the sickest. I’m tired of being the emotional burden in the room.
Is this how you felt as you faded away? As if, only half real to begin with, you slowly disappeared into nothing? As you watched the pain you caused others with your pain, did you long for the completion of the darkness after time started stretching farther and farther?
What I really want to know is how disappointed you would be at my failure to move forward. How would you deal with death? I guess I should have asked you that. I really wish I had.
Love,
Your favorite (only) daughter, age 21
Dear First Love,
Have you ever read the book Eat, Pray, Love? I’d assume you haven’t; you were never the type for girl books, although you weren’t opposed to a chick flick now and again. There’s a quote that the author writes that makes me think of you every time I happen across it:
“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake… Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.”
You were my soul mate, my mirror, and for that there is only one thing I can do: thank you. Before I met you, I had no clue what love was, and because my parents had a somewhat estranged marriage, the only place I’d ever seen it was through the movies. But I wanted to fall in love with the beast, be saved by Jack and remember Noah, even if only for a minute. Then, I met you. And from that millisecond on, I knew my life would never be the same.
We were young, stupid, careless freshman in high school. Yeah, freshman in high school. Most people don’t believe high schoolers could love, and I admit, even I believed love was foolish for kids our age. But you, you were so different from everyone else. There was something about the way your lips curved over your gap-toothed smile. The way your eyes met mine– brown, a color I never had a liking for, but there was something soulful and exciting about yours. You were, by definition, the tall, dark and handsome jock. Popular with girls falling at your feet. I, by definition, was the average, short blonde band geek, who had many friends but hardly any boys nipping it my heels. And you were way out of my league.
But for some reason you took notice to me. I always marveled at the miracle that was, and honestly, I still do. You took me to my first homecoming, and I swear as soon as you grabbed my hand and led me out onto that dance floor, the rest was history. You truly swept me off my feet, that night and for the two years that followed.
From the moment you took my hand on that dance floor, there was no way I wasn’t going to fall in love with you. And I did, boy, I did. You took me from who I was and shaped me into what I am today. I experienced things I never would have, and pushed boundaries because of you.
I sometimes wonder what my life would be like if we had stayed together, but that hardly matters now. I hope you’re living your life the way you hoped to. I still love you, first love, and I suppose I always will. Thank you for being what I needed you to be.
Love,
Maura, age 18
To myself,
I have been sick now for six months. Every time I recover, some new symptom seems to consume me. It seems like I’ve entered the hospital E.R. so many times that it’s now my safehaven from disaster. I am medicated and able-bodied, persisting through my work week like a soldier chased by his shadow. Recently, I have gained the beautiful experience of panic attacks which seem to be alienating me from my friends, family, and peers. Every time they happen, I feel like I’ve come close to death and recovered, suddenly. Although I am perfectly healthy and young, these attacks seem real and have tried to take over my life.
In writing this letter, I want to remind myself to persist through this. Although scary, I cannot let this break my spirit. Drugs and anxiety will never overcome my love for life and people. I do regret laying in the hospital stretcher hallway and being ignored by nurses while I cry for help or water, something to let me live a little longer. Yet here I am, despite it all. There are amazing people out there I want to meet, and beautiful memories I want to keep. I am strong, here and now, and by myself I will over come this and take care of myself forever. I will find someone to love, and also love myself. I have faith now more than ever that everything will be ok.
You found yourself,
Nate, age 24
Dear real grandmother,
I never knew you, but I know you loved me. I hope you knew I loved you, too. Yesterday I was with mom and my dad at dinner. Out of the blue, my dad said to mom, “I wish I could’ve met your real mother.” Right there, mom started crying and told us a bunch of stories about you and the seven years of her life that she got to spend with you. She said you seemed average to everyone else, but to her you were her hero. I cannot thank you enough for bringing my amazing mom into the world and making her the person she is today.
Megan, age 15
Dear Roxie,
You always were so much more than a horse to me. And, you would have been ten this year… wow. I can’t believe that! That means this would have been our sixth winter together. Lord, I can’t even believe that. I still remember the day I found out you were mine- my parents hid your picture in a blanket for Christmas. Literally, one of the best things to happen to me, ever. You’ve been gone for about two and half years now, and you know what? I don’t care that you were “just” a horse. You weren’t, not even close.
You know, it really killed me when you died, so unexpectedly, so randomly, on such a pure, perfect summer day. It was surreal. I can’t tell what made your death worse; the fact that I found you dead in your stall, all sweaty and laying down with your mouth contorted, still as a board, or the fact of knowing my absolute best friend in the world, the thing I set and associated myself by, my passion, the thing I had complete and utter trust in, was just… gone. You were gone. Poof, gone from my life. Never again would I be able to ride you, feel that smooth lope. Never again would I hear you whinny at me when I walked in through those barn doors. Never again could I touch you. I wouldn’t be able to see your gorgeous, champagne colored coat, your funky tail with streaks of different colors, your three socks, or your cute little pink patch underneath the white spot on your nose. I wouldn’t be able to show you, ever again.
You always were too pure of a horse to exist in real-life for too long. You were spunky and nice and kind and patient and a bitch and I loved every part of you. The barn radio was on when I said goodbye and you know what song was playing? “I Still Miss You” by Keith Anderson. Ironic, eh baby girl? I still can’t freaking listen to that song without crying. You were supposed to be there when I graduate high school, when I started college. You weren’t. You were my rock, my foundation to reality. How many times did I think about just driving off a bridge, or overdosing on pills or something. My sense of reality was all warped and everything was surreal. I can still remember every single thing that happened when I found you. I hated life and I hate myself. I felt it was my fault that I didn’t catch that you weren’t feeling good the day before when I rode you. Sometimes, I still feel like it’s my fault… I should have read you better, baby girl.
Since your death, life has been, to put it simply, weird. Honestly, everything has spiraled out of control. My parent’s finances are shit, their marriage is shot, and my home life now sucks. Instead of living the college dream, I’m living at home trying to save money. It feels like you dying was a jinx onto my family. I had to switch barns because no one got me after you died, and had to switch trainers, friends, etc. Life just isn’t the same. I still get down about you and no one gets it. No one gets that you were never just a horse. You were my best friend, my lover, my boyfriend, my rock, my life. Then, all of the sudden, you were just gone.
One good thing that’s come from this is I got Gracie. Lord, she’s been a life-saver. I don’t know where the hell my life would be without that cute little horse. She reminds me of you in so many ways. It’s like you were partly reincarnated into her. She likes to chew reins and buttons on coats. You both wear the same size blankets, bridle/cavesson sizes and even have a long, thick tail. It amazes me that you guys are so alike. You are both spunky and both totally respect me. I love you both.
I lay awake at night trying to remember what you felt like, what you sounded like. I can’t remember your lope, your jog, your walk, anything. It destroys me. I feel so guilty. Why have I forgotten? What have I done to forget something as beautiful as you? As my best friend? It’s so frustrating that I have slowly forgotten everything about you. I admit to only visiting your grave the one time. I just can’t do it. Don’t be mad, I’d rather remember you as something pure, whole and beautiful, not broken and wounded, dead, on the ground.
I must say, I do look forward to your signs that you’re doing okay. The rainbows? I see them and know they’re from you, especially after I’ve been particularly down or it’s been a rough day. I think that after the majority of horse shows I’ve gone to since you died, I have seen a rainbow at some point or another. Thank you for that. Thank you for motivating be to become a veterinarian, no matter how long the road. I want to honor your memory, Rox. I can only imagine some beautiful angel riding you across the clouds while you wait for me to join you one day. Please, please continue to watch over me, my family, my pets, and especially, Gracie.
Thank you. Thank you for everything. Words can’t express my gratitude and sorrow and love for you. I love you, Roxie. You were my best friend, always way more than “just” a horse.
Love,
ASC, age 20
Evan,
Ever since I can remember, you always told me I wasn’t good enough. You always told me you hated me. You always told me I was terrible at anything that made me happy or gave me purpose. That time you told me I couldn’t sing in seconds grade? I haven’t sang since.
Remember how you always told me that art was pointless? That I couldn’t make art? That I sucked at it? That I’d be a failure if I became an artist? Well, art is my life. It is literally the only thing that ever gave me a purpose. The only thing that ever gave me hope.
I don’t think that you know, because I told mom not to tell you, but I spent eight days in a behavioral hospital for cutting and for trying to kill myself, because you took all of that away from me.
Just so you know, I’m going to an art school for college. Screw you.
Your baby sister, age 18
Dear Grandad,
I remember it so clearly, like it was yesterday. You placed your hand on my belly and asked me, “Is there one in there?” and all I could say was, “Sorry, Grandad, but I just don’t know.” That was the last thing you asked me, as the next day you slipped into a coma, forever being taken away. I so wish I knew then what I found out a week later: that there was indeed a little one in there and that I was there weeks along. I was happy, but also very sad that I never got to tell you.
But I know you were with me through the nine months holding my hand. You were a person that liked everything to be in order and on time. And I got the sign when my water broke on my due date and the baby was born at 12:30, your best time of the day. Her middle name is Melody, after your love of music. It felt right.
I am sad because you never got to meet her, but you would be so proud. She’s nine months now, so clever and fun-loving, just like her pops. I will never forget you and the kids will always remember you. I will never let them forget the brave and amazing man that forever touched our hearts. Thank you for loving me and my family, and for looking after us as I know you are.
Love and miss you always,
Your granddaughter Kelly, age 29
Ken,
It’s been exactly two years, three weeks and six days since you died. I want to say that I’ve moved on, but my days are spent going over that last phone call. I want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to save you, I’m sorry that I made all the mistakes we promised each other we would never make. I’m sorry that I couldn’t save Jack, either. I just pray that he is with you now, and that you both are free of pain.
I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if I got on that train like I knew I should have. Maybe you wouldn’t have painted your bathroom floor with crimson, maybe you could be here next to me. I know the last thing you wanted me to do was hold onto the what-ifs; I’m sorry but I just can’t help myself.
I keep the letter you wrote me under my bed, and your ring around my neck. Even if you’re gone, I know you will never really leave me. I’m just sorry that you had to be so young: 40 is too young to die, let alone 14. My schizophrenia has developed another voice: yours. I know that it’s not real and it’s just my head, but I can’t help wanting to collapse every time I hear it.
Midway through last year, I realized how many promises I’d broken. I swore to you I would never become a junkie, I would save myself for someone that I loved, and I would get out of my abusive relationship with Liam. Ken, I can’t express how sorry I am, and I know that you were watching with tears in your eyes.
I guess the point of this was to thank you, really. If it wasn’t for the promises you made me swear to keep, I would still be on the street giving myself away for drugs. I’ve been sober for six months now, and I have a girlfriend. You would love her; she’s almost as crazy and hyper as you were.
I will always love you, and I pray that wherever you and Jack are, you’re away from the pain and intolerance.
Forever yours,
Courtney, age 16
To my recently deceased dog Hopper,
I just heard today that you passed away. I cried. Memories of you flood my mind. I remember when my mom and I first got you. I was 10 or 11. Dad had just left us. Mom came into my room and asked, “Wanna go get a dog?” I said yes very excitedly. I remember seeing you at the animal shelter wearing a pink sweater. You were shivering and whimpering. It was December. Little did mom and I know that you would be with us for 12 years. We named you Hopper because you had a lot of energy. Of course, it’s been a while since you lived up to your name. Thanks for getting me through a tough time in my life. Without you, I don’t think I would have made it. I wish I could scratch you behind your ears like you liked. I hope that wherever you are, you are happy.
Love,
C, age 21
Dear Dad,
So I guess there’s a lot I need to tell you about. I mean it’s been, what, eleven years? Eleven years since you left our family? Eleven years since Mom had to work all of those late hours? Eleven years since you stopped caring? A lot can happen in eleven years.
Mom, Joseph and I have been doing just fine. She’s a magnificent woman, Mom- raising two kids on her own and whatnot. Joe hasn’t been doing very well with his grades. Maybe it’s an act of rebellion, or a lack of motivation, I’ll never know. He’s going to be a senior next year, although we don’t know how he’s going to graduate with his grades. Me? I’ve been doing great. While you’ve been gone, I have received many academic awards and I currently have a 4.0. I’m sure you’d be proud. But, I have a question. You know those countless weekends where you couldn’t see us because you had to work? Did you really have to work, or were they just excuses for not seeing us?
It’s my 14th birthday next month, marking 12 years since you left. It would be nice if you could send me good thoughts, or whatever AWOL dads like to do on their daughter’s birthday.
Everyday I wonder what I would say to you if you decided to waltz back into our life one day. Maybe something like, “Long time no see,” or “Look how much I’ve grown.” But, the harsh truth is, you’re probably not coming back.
I guess what I really want to tell you is that I’m not mad at you, and this letter is really for closure for all these years. I know I will never have the infamous father-daughter dances and activities fathers and daughters do, but it’s going to be ok. If there’s anything that I’ve learned from your absence, it’s that life goes on and you can’t spend your time dwelling in the past. Hope the life you have now is great. Maybe you could pay us a visit sometime.
Love,
Your daughter, age 14
Dear Grandpa,
Wow, soon you would have been gone four years! I miss you a lot. I miss the man you use to be and I miss the strength you gave the family. I just really wanna say sorry. Sorry for how my mom never took care of us. Sorry that you had to be the father in Robert’s and my life. Sorry I couldn’t fix her for you. I know you tried your hardest every day and it killed you to watch your daughter kill herself. I used to be hurt that you died but it was your time and I know that; I know you couldn’t do everything by yourself. You still to this day are my rock, you gave me morals and principles to stand and hold my head high. I am proud to be your granddaughter.
I just wanna say I graduated and am going to college in the fall. I’m getting my license so I can go visit grandma. I know she misses you. It was hard for her; you were a big part of her life. I don’t see the family much but I still hold them all dear and close to my heart. I love you more and think about you still all the time. I miss you and hope you are happy and finally at peace.
Alana, age 18
J,
I loved you with everything I was, and I still love you with everything that is left. I never thought the day would come where we did not speak. I no longer really live; I just go through the motions of life void of emotion. I walk around this town like a ghost because it’s where we met, and there isn’t a day that goes by I don’t think of you, and look up the sky wishing you were looking up at the same time thinking about me. I’ll never forget that day you told me “I love how you never give up on me”. No matter where you are or who you are with, just know that you have a piece of me and I carry you with me everyday. I will never love another person with the genuine, innocent, true love I loved you with. If only you wouldn’t have walked away and listened to your heart. I love you always and forever.
E, age 23
Dear R,
I can’t even begin to let you know how much you mean to me. You saw me, the real me, after only knowing me a few short months. You saw pain in my eyes when I smiled. Some days you pushed for answers, some days you remained quiet, some days you simply tried to make me laugh. You always knew the right thing to do.
You knew about the lies that surrounded my entire life. You offered your home to me, a safe haven I never deserved. As the world around me quickly collapsed, you hugged me tight, and I sobbed into your chest. You asked for nothing in return, claiming my happiness was enough. And although you treat me like I am your own, I envy your children and your family and I feel an extraordinary amount of guilt for everything you’ve done for me.
You are my boss, but in reality you are so much more. You are my guardian angel, and had I never applied for that sales associate’s job, I probably wouldn’t be alive today. I hope I can one day be as strong, beautiful, and loving as you are. Please don’t ever give up on me. Please. It scares me to even imagine my life without you now. I love you like the mother I wish my real mom was, and I hope one day I make you proud.
Love always,
K, age 19
To the people in my life,
I know I’m not perfect, in fact I know I’m probably a little off, but I try to be the change I want to see in the world. I try to give in all of my relationships, to be someone who is more than just someone to waste time with, to be someone you all can rely on. When you come home from work, I always make a point to stop what I’m doing and ask you about your day, about your thoughts, about anything. When you ask me to drop my plans and “just do this one thing”, I do it because I know that you really just need some help.
When I can tell you are lying to me, when you seem distant or upset, I never let it drop because I know how you work and I know you just need someone’s shoulder; when you called that Tuesday morning and I drove to your house because I knew you were acting weird, it ended up saving your life. When you treat me like the scum of the Earth, I can brush it off because I know you are really upset about our father or your relationship. When you stopped talking to me after that extremely late Saturday night, I knew it was because you were confused and didn’t want to be thrown so far out of your comfort zone, so I let you go. When I am only at your house for two nights and you spend them who-knows-where, I know it is because you were never ready to be a father, and I forgive you.
I know so many of you on such a deep level, I would die in an instant for you, but you do not know me. I was there when you tired to kill yourself; I took you to the hospital and I’ve called you at least once a week ever since. I was there when your mother died; I drove you home from the funeral. I was there when you lost your job and your house; I helped you move in to your new place. I was there when you were only eating 300 calories a day, making you meals even though you would only eat some of it. I was there when you got that second DUI; driving you to work and throwing away your booze. I was there when the idiot you were engaged to cheated on you; I took you out because I knew you needed to just feel good about yourself. I was there, and I will be there.
I don’t know what I want from this. I don’t need anything more from any of you, and honestly I’m not sure I even want anything from you. With the beautiful exception of John, you have spent the entirety of our mutual existence thinking only of yourselves, and I guess that is all that can be expected from humanity. I do not know who I am, or what I want, or why I even prefer to be living rather than dead, but I do know this: I would rather live as I am- unable to see any reason to do anything with myself, driving no pleasure from my actions, living as an existential wanderer without map nor compass nor clear skies- than live as you are- unable to see anything or anyone past yourself and your desires. Best of all, most of you are happy.
Son, brother, friend, companion, ex, age 19
Dear Mom,
It is now two years and seven months since you crossed that bridge to the next life. I still miss you and think about you frequently. Little things remind me of you, such as eating at Friendlies and the table being too high for you to sit comfortably. I wear some of your coats and jackets. I’ve lost weight and they now fit me. I feel close to you when I have one on me. You were a very tiny “little old lady” in the last years of your life. I guess we all shrink some as we age; it goes along with the wrinkles, poor reading vision, and saggy skin. Should I continue? I don’t think so, either.
I have now entered a new stage of mourning. Guilt. I feel bad for the arguments we had, I feel bad for expecting too much as you aged. I’m sad about losing my temper with you too many times. I loved you, but I think the stress of being the soul caretaker, having a full time job that was quite stressful and being a grandmother myself and trying to squeeze in visits to my daughter - 1500 miles away - took it’s toll on me, too.
Years earlier, you cared for my kitties while I was gone. But at some point that became too much for you. I understood that and accepted it. But I didn’t understand why you would not let me find someone to stay with you for a few days while I was gone. It would have eased my worries a little. I was always afraid that something would happen to you while I was gone, and no one would be there to help you. Eventually something did happen, and no one was there. You did survive, but it was the beginning of the end for you. I knew this, and I think you did too, but we never spoke of it.
I wonder now if you needed to talk about it but protected me from the sadness, or if you truly didn’t want to discuss it. I feel bad that I didn’t initiate the conversation because it would probably have been helpful for you. I also feel sad that I arrived only minutes after you died. I didn’t get a chance to tell you I loved you one more time, or to say good-bye. Of course I won’t ever get that chance, but writing to you helps to let the sadness out and put it to rest. I think I will see you again sometime, and maybe my cats, too. Are you waiting for me? Are you happy, safe, warm? Is Daddy with you now? I hope the answer is yes to all of these questions. And I hope someday I will think of you happily and not with grief and guilt. I love you and treasure my memories of you.
Linda, age 64
Spec. C.L.S,
I’m writing this because you are currently laying in a bed across the country from me, and I haven’t found the words to tell you how I feel. Three years ago, we met via an add on Craigslist, we went on our first date to Castles and Coasters, and even though I chickened out, we remained friends. Every date and guy since, I’ve thought about you.
Last year, you were deployed for nine months in Afghanistan, and we talked every day. Then you came home, and everything I had been denying came out. This past summer we both finally admitted to one another how much we cared for each other, and then this Christmas we made it official. Even though I’ve been wanting and waiting for this for three years, I never realized how much this would mean.
The other day you mentioned moving home, sooner then we thought you would, and suddenly I realized just how much I love you. There is not one ounce of my being that doesn’t care truly and deeply for you; the simple sound of your voice calms me and I cannot help but smile when I see your picture. I was raised with the idea that you should never need someone in your life but instead want them in your life, and I truly believed in that philosophy, until now. I know I need you here with me, and I know I have you here with me. I never thought at 22 I would be so happy to fall in love with someone I can truly see myself marrying. I love you, and I thank you for being my best friend. Thank you for showing me just what I deserve and what love is truly capable of. You are an amazing man, I cant wait till you come home.
Love you always,
S.Renee, age 22
Dear Dad,
I want you to know that I’m not mad that you were never around. I don’t blame you. You weren’t ready to be a father, and I understand that. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt to see how you were with your second wife’s children. I always wanted to fit in at your house…but I never could. I just didn’t belong there.
Still, every time a friend of yours would meet me and say that they didn’t know you had another daughter, it hurt. And I just wish that I could have been a bigger part of your life. I think you’d like me if you get to know me, or at least be proud of me. I’ve made straight A’s throughout my high school career, I never got a detention, and I spent my summer’s doing volunteer work. I want to think that you’d like that.
I bet you don’t think about me everyday, but I can’t help but think of you. I have your eyes, I’m tall like you, and I have the same weird sense of humor. I see so much of you in me. I remember once when I was about seven and I was visiting you, I spent a whole day trying to walk just like you did. I’d heard other people point out certain things that other kids did that their dads did, too, and I wanted to have one of those.
It wasn’t fair what you did to me. I was your sometimes-daughter, and it killed me. I don’t know how many nights I cried over you. I always wanted you to miss me as much as I missed you. I was your oldest daughter, and I thought that should mean something.
I do want you to know that I’ve always loved you and that I always will. But you should also know that I don’t pretend that you were a good father to me, or even that you were the best you could be. I’m not sure if you ever realized that, but I’ve forgiven you.
I wish you didn’t drink. I wish that I would have had more chances to call you “Daddy”. I wish that I could have really known who my father was. And I wish that you would have loved me, instead of thinking of me as a mistake.
Your daughter,
Alex, age 16
Dear Dan,
I’m afraid of the future. I’m afraid of commitment because I have been hurt by people in this lifetime. As I end my college days, and you still have two years left, and I want nothing more than to wish to be with you. I want to picture us having a home and a place to grow with each other. While every day you tell me I am beautiful, I seem to ignore it and find a way to convince myself you are wrong. I never have had self esteem for myself and I do try and change it. But you don’t, either. Together we make a somewhat dysfunctional couple.
The day you finally told me that you loved me, I was speechless. It had been nine months since I had seen you last. Every day we spoke and I missed you more and more. Now that I have you back, that I can hold you in my arms, things seem brighter. As quirky and weird as you are, fascinated with zombies, taking walks in the woods with me, being outgoing and making friends everywhere, at times I envy you. You are the crazy to my shyness. Some days I feel like just by being around you, I am slowly growing more and more to be someone that I can love.
You make me scared, shy, happy, and every now and then I get the butterflies. But slowly I am finding myself able to grasp the thought of loving you for more than a few months like a crazy college kid, and wanting to love you like a joyous couple. I never wanted to ever get married, or have kids, or settle down, or open my heart to someone. The fear of failure and pain as always haunted me. But you have changed me.
Every day I tell myself that I can’t allow myself to be afraid. I want you to take a jackhammer to this cement wall, break down every fear I have had, and drag me down an isle and make me yours. Someday I want to be yours, and for you to be mine, and to make a life with you. If the gravel gets rough on the way there, we can put on the all terrain tires and get down the path.
I love you for everything you are, and for everything you have done for me even though you don’t even know you have done it. I hope we can make it through everything and anything. Please never give up faith in me, and I promise to do the same for you.
Love through the starry nights and zombie fights,
Snuffiluff, age 20
Dear Fufu,
I wish I knew when you would die, but I did not. Your death was unforgivable and my heart was shattered, and it could not be mended again. I still remember when you were extremely sick and could not be revived. Think of all the fun we would have if you did not die.
I hope you have a wonderful, fantastic life in bunny heaven.
Love,
Alex, age 10
Dear boyfriend,
You are asleep downstairs right now. I can’t stand to sleep next to you because of how this week has gone. I am so tired of finding out that you and her are “reconnecting”. This is the third time you have “reconnected” or had her on the side, in the past year. In all reality I should leave you, I should have left you a long time ago. The problem with this is that I love you.
Love to me means so much more than what it means to you, that is obvious. How can you say you love me more, when on the day you told me you wanted to marry me, you were also calling your ex to talk about the secret camping trip she was planning for you two?
I wish you could understand what you are doing to me, I wish I could tell you how often I think about how untrustworthy you are, and yet I am acting like nothing is wrong. I just don’t know how to act around you. If I were to act the way I feel, I would be a walking zombie, one who cries and physically aches because of the hurt you caused me. You’ve left a hole in my heart.
Those flowers you gave me after I confronted you about her? They will die along with their apologetic meaning.
Signed,
They were right all along about you, age 20
Dear Dad,
Do you at least remember my birthday? Or does your new wife have to remind you? Do you remember my middle name? Probably not. I’ll never forget yours.
At my prom, when it was time for the father daughter dance, I wanted to get it over with. In ten years from now, at my wedding, I’ll be walking down the aisle and you won’t be the one walking next to me. It kills me to think that you won’t be a grandfather because you won’t know when I have my first child. I’m sorry that you didn’t love me for the past 18 years of my life. I hate that you felt the need to tell my mother that I had failed you.
So, this visit is my last attempt. When I come visit you this summer, as a surprise, don’t expect the running hug that I gave you as a child, and in return, I won’t expect you to say “I love you” when I get back on the plane.
Your only daughter, age 18
Dear Tim,
I’m sorry for not going to the movies and watching horror films with you. You’re my boyfriend so I should feel safe with you. But that is not the problem. Neither are the demons or the scary voices that you jokingly think it’s about. When I was twelve years old, I held my older brother as he took his last breath. I looked into his eyes until they became nothing. His body was pale and blood covered his stomach. That is the reason. The gory special effects bring me back to the day every time you talk about the newest horror flick. I just wish I had the courage to tell you.
Love,
Hailey, age 19
Dear boy at the hockey match,
I know this sounds stupid, and completely desperate, but I have thought about you nearly every day since October 2011. We said maybe two or three words to each other, and that was it. But I just feel that you are my soulmate. This makes me sound pathetic but I don’t care. I would give anything to be able to go back to that day. To just find out your name. I have so many photos of the crowd in that Washington DC hockey match, but in each one, your head is turned away. It makes me so angry because I want to know who you are so badly. Nobody knows what this feels like, and they just laugh when I tell them, but I really don’t think I will forget you. I believe that we will meet some day, I will find you.
Love,
Your 17 year old crush
Dear Gail,
I would like to start off by saying thank you. Thank you for making the man I love. I know you didn’t mean to leave this earth so early and leave behind your two babies, but I also know that the experiences he’s had in his life have made him into the man I love and am going to marry in five months.
I so wish that you and I could have met and known each other, and that I could have gotten your motherly approval. I wish even more that he could have had you in his life and known what it is like to have unconditional motherly love like I have. I know you look down on us from heaven and that you do love him unconditionally, but it’s not the same. 27 years ago today, you passed away, and he doesn’t remember your hugs or kisses. He sees your smile every time he looks in the mirror, as well as your eyes, and I hope some day we will be blessed with a baby that looks like him, just as he looks like you.
I knew last year when we visited your grave that this year would be harder than the other years combined, at least for me, and I feel like I’m being selfish in grieving for someone I didn’t even know. I grieve for you, but also for him. I don’t see him cry too often, and I don’t think he usually cries when we go visit you, but I always do. Maybe I cry because I think he feels like he can’t. So many people were affected by your passing, some more than others. Your dad, who I love dearly, misses you every day and has done his best to make sure that his grandson knows about his mom’s life and what she was like, as well as trying to instill the values and morals he instilled into you.
I just wish I could have known you. I wish he could have known you. I know you’ll be with us on our wedding day, just as you were at his brothers.
Thank you. For all the things I can say, as well as all the things I can’t. I never knew you, but I love you anyways, through him.
Love,
Your future daughter in law, age 29
Dear Grandma,
I have been thinking lately about all the wonderful things you do and did for me, and everyone else. You where the strong one when my mom died; you took me in to let me live with you. You always make sure I get what I want. You have never given up on me, even when I was slipping up in school, when I just didn’t care.
Then I was thinking about what I do for you. It saddened me when I realized that taking out the trash out and going to the store for you doesn’t really compare with what you have done for me. So I ask you, what could I do that would ever repay something like giving up your life to make mine better? I couldn’t think of anything but to thank you and do my best to respect and love you.
Your grandson, age 14
Dear my older sister,
I know it has been years since our mother has hurt you in so many ways, but it still gets to me about how brave you were and how sacred I was. You were always there for me and our brother. You would put us to sleep and tuck us in while mom was in school and dad was working, reading me a story and snuggling me until I was dreaming peacefully. That never lasted long, though.
Although I was the youngest, only six, it always killed me inside when I awoke to hear you mom and dad screaming at each other. I never did anything besides lying there, crying until either someone left or I was so exhausted. In the morning, I always acted clueless and happy, like I didn’t hear the screaming and hate coming from the kitchen. All you ever thought about was me and our brother, putting us before you all the time. I never saw any resentment in your eyes towards us.
Then, one day, when you were 16 and I was 10, you got in a huge fight. I don’t really know the specifics but there was something to do with knives. She threw you out. All you were wearing was a pair of underpants and a shirt. She threw you out with nothing and you had to walk all the way to your best friend’s house. I don’t know what dad did, but he obviously chose her over you. I will always be thankful to your friend and their parents for taking you in and taking care of you.
She and dad got a divorce and he put a restraining order on her for you and the house. You lived in this trailer we had in some random yard. You went through some bad times but always showed how strong you were, and how protective and loving you were with us. Now you’re 22 and in a great relationship with a man I truly adore, who has gone through somewhat of the same upbringing as you and who completely understands.
I am 15 as of this winter, and you have been slowly telling me the stories of what that woman did to you. You have only shown me love, and as long as I live you will be my best friend who I trust with my life. To be honest, I look up to you.
Thank you for everything. I love you so much.
- Me, age 15
Kris,
You’re the last thing I think about at night, and the first thing every morning, and every minute in-between. You are an incredible person, so determined and driven, good hearted, and such a beautiful soul. There’s not a day I don’t miss you, and there will never be a day that I’ll stop loving you. You were supposed to be mine, we were supposed to be each other’s everything. But as time went on, you moved on.
I talk to our old friends and ask how you’ve been. You’re with someone new and you two are sharing all of our dreams. If makes me sick to my stomach. You break my heart everyday without ever even knowing it. You drive me crazy and you don’t even know it. I still love you after all this time and I don’t know if you still know it. I wonder at times if the feeling is mutual. Do you miss me, too? Do you wish she was me? I wake up with him and pray everyday it’s you laying next to me.
Sometimes I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and I’ll listen to our old songs just to get me back to sleep. All I have left of us is our pictures and my memories. My heart breaks everyday for you, my love. Come back, I’ll always be waiting for you. I still love you babe, with all my heart. No one will ever hold a flame to you.
Alicia, age 22
Dear Dad,
It has been five years now and I still look for you when I come home to visit. We all miss you; I can hear it in Mom’s voice when I talk to her on the phone.
Sometimes I think she has been crying and just won’t admit it. I am living my life for you, to make you proud. Every choice I make is first considered “What would Dad have to say about this?” When you were here, I could ask you and we would talk for hours about everything. Now I try to replace you with friends and loved ones, but it’s not the same.
I wish there was some way you could let me know how I am doing. Someday I will get the answers to my questions; until then, know that you are always in my thoughts. I take you with me everywhere I go and put a piece of you in everything I do.
I will always love you and be your daughter; cancer can’t take that away.
Love,
Megan, age 26
To my brother,
In my head, I understand the reasons why you did what you did. I have been there many times myself. Parts of me admire the fact that you had the guts to do it, but then I get so sad that you felt that was the only option you had. Why didn’t you just pass out? I know you have a million times before.
I wish you would have told me goodbye. You told other people (in your own way) and you acted like you didn’t even have a sister. I know we haven’t really talked in years, but you were my twin brother. We were together in the womb. You have always been in my world. I don’t understand why you waited till I got to town and then killed yourself without ever contacting me.
Was it my fault because I didn’t call you right away? I think it might be less painful to believe that I had something to do with your decision than to accept the fact that for you, I didn’t even exist.
Have you any idea of the wreckage you left behind? You think your life was a mess. Your death was way worse. I worry about our little brother. Yeah, he’s 44 years old but he’s the one that got to clean out your place. He’s got the cap with the .22 hole in it. He dragged bags and bags of your shit out of your house. He’s also paying off your credit card bills because he wants to keep your house and build a legacy.
I love you so much, but I am so mad at you. I already forgive you and I miss you.
Your twin sister, age 53