To My Best Friend, Allison

*Alli* It’s been almost 5 years since you were taken from this earth. I know you fought so hard to stay here!! None of us wanted you to go but I guess it was your time. It has been hard without you here but I have done my best to live my life to the fullest and make you proud!! I know that you are with me and the rest of your friends and family as well!! I think about you all the time!! I visit you quite often, I know you know this though. I want to thank you for watching over me and saving me from that car accident. I know that you were watching over me and with me at that time. You were such an amazing person!! I am so glad that we had almost every class together 8th grade year. Having all those classes together really made our friendship stronger!! I am glad that we created all the memories we did throughout the years!! I wouldn’t change any of them for the world!! As I am beginning my sophomore year of college I once again wonder what it would be like if you were still here. I! would see you out there on that soccer field still playing soccer and becoming a pro-soccer player!! It is hard for me to look back and think of all the things you missed. You were only 14. It’s not fair!! People aren’t supposed to be taken at that young of an age!! You didn’t get your license, you didn’t get to go to prom, you didn’t get to graduate highschool or go to college, and you won’t ever get married or have children. It is just hard for me to go on and do the things you will never get a chance to do. As we come upon milestones I live them for you. Your memory is etched in my heart forever!! I will do all I can to keep your memory alive!! So I guess this is getting long and You already know these things anyway. So I guess I will end this. I love & miss you so much, Alli!! Life is not the same without you!! It never has been and never will be!! I love you with all of my heart, you were my best friend!! Love Always, Brittney

From your one and only

Dear NaNa, You always said you wanted to live just long enough to see me get married. I never told you, but my plan was to never marry so that you would never die. As soon as I became engaged you started calling Richard your grandson and that meant the world to both of us. While our wedding was only 7 months after PaPa left us, you danced at our wedding with such joy that I never thought I’d see in you again. When I became pregnant you said, “I’m just waiting for that baby.” We called you from the delivery room to tell you about you’re one and only (granddaughter) giving birth to Tali, whom you called “Dolly,” and that she was. I treasure the memories of those Wednesdays when you took care of her with Sia’s help. When I came to pick her up after work it was clear that she had made your day and I felt comforted knowing you would sleep well that night. It was right after you held Tali that you collapsed, and that was the last time I saw you awake. It’s been 6 years and I still miss you so much that it hurts. Recently I was driving and for no particular reason I had this overwhelming feeling of your presence. Shortly after you died I was holding Tali at your house. She seemed to be looking over my shoulder at something and smiling. When I looked in the same direction there was nothing there. No one will ever convince me that you weren’t there smiling at her. It breaks my heart that you aren’t here to see her and her brother Charlie. You’d be so happy at how well they napped when they were younger and how much they eat! I think about that every time I feed them. NaNa, we are doing okay here without you, but still miss you terribly. I’m so glad that all eight great grandchildren got to swim in your pool, but you only got to have conversations with 4 of them. Wherever you are I hope you know how much you’ve meant to all of us. It comes as no surprise that we, your grandchildren adored you, but our spouses adored you too and never thought of you as anything but their NaNa. Please continue to visit me in my dreams. I always wake up from them feeling as though I have just spoken to you and then you are never very far away. I love you. Love, Your one and only

My dear and beloved friend

I wonder why you did not tell me of your intention? We have been so close for so long – yet others knew of your plan and you did not confide it in me. What would I have done if you had? Managed an intervention? Tried to talk you out of it? Called …someone? All of that? I’m sure it wasn’t because you thought I couldn’t handle it…..maybe you were worried I would talk you out of it or that I would suffer knowing of it. I cannot swear I would have opposed what you did…..I knew you were condemned to a middle and elder-life of psychic pain. I completely understood what your future was (and was not). These are my last words to you – and I wish you had given me some of yours. I have always loved you, ever since we met when we were 13 – and I always will love you. My mother loved ! you too, along with so many others. The most important thing is – I would have let you go. I think you did not know or believe that I would have let you go as you wanted. That is the most important fact, other than your sudden, abrupt and jarring absence in my universe, which is now more than just one person smaller, since you were so much larger than life. I hope you are in peace and I hope your peace will eventually reach me and your other friends. I hope you now know that I would have accepted your decision. It is just so very hard to accept it now – I wish I had said goodbye.

This is my goodbye, Cary. Be peaceful.

To Thomas

With whom, now that you have gone, with whom will our conversation continue? Well, perhaps that is the meaning, the ending-ness, the limit, a half-sentence without elipsis.

Whereas from my everyday point of view there is only continuing, adjusting, arranging. You have lodging in me as a principle, while your person has left. Memory keeps the shell, now a roadsign pointing inwards, or backwards.

It is now the first anniversary of your death.

Conversation about losing a father

Dad: I had a brief conversation yesterday with the brother of the man who lives next door with his family. He introduced himself to me, reminding me that his father had died about 10 days ago. He seemed to be in a daze and subdued. I told him that you had died about 10 years ago, and that the whole idea of “moving on” or “closure” in American culture presents problems. When I said that he could see that I was tearing up, he told me that he thinks of his mother and sees her face every day as he had for 17 years. I don’t know if I’ll see him again, but it was both comforting and a bit painful to have this conversation with him. Milton

Nevea

Mom: It’s been almost 18 years since you died so suddenly, and while I’m grateful beyond words that you got to know Lizzie and Tito, I still can’t believe that you never met Thea. Heather (who was pregnant with Thea when you died) is convinced that some kind of weird cosmic transference took place, because Thea is so like you: outgoing, indomitable, courageous, generous… I hope you’re enjoying her (and her siblings) from wherever you are right now! love, your son

Letter to D

D: I hope you have found your peace, your zone, your joy. You have left behind so much sadness and confusion and guilt and anger, and extreme guilt for feeling such anger. I believe you did what you had to do, what you felt was your only option, and I choose to wish and hope that you have found true happiness, where ever you are now. If you are watching, if you are feeling, if you are existing in any other form, I beg of you to please sent some answers to the sadness in our souls, please send some happiness, peace and love to chase away the despair, and to perhaps help repair this torn fabric of what was once an unbelievably, fabulous life. To again be whole, would be a miracle. This is a cry out to you, in any form you may be, for help. Please advise. With Love Always.

To my darling best friend

Ok, so it’s this time of year again… another anniversary unfortunately.

I went back to our house in France over Easter and it reminded me of all our childhood activities…. skinny dipping in the pool (dare I say it), trampolining and all those ‘late’ nights. Well, 10pm was late when we were about 8! I am never going to forget all of that, truly brilliant. I mean, every summer I knew what we would do and I love all that. I also, strangely enough, saw one of those wendy houses that you used to have at a car boot sale the other day, and it reminded me so much of tea and cakes with our teddy bears! In fact, when we went in France we went with your family as we counted it as our annual holiday to France as everyone is so busy this summer.

I also can’t believe how much we’ve missed doing together – I had to go through puberty without you (well the world and his wife know how much of a pain I have been through that) and all the other things I have seen other friends do with their best friends – deciding their gap years together, buying graduation dresses and all that jazz. But you were there with me throughout all of that, mentally if not physically. Still, I had you in mind. You’d be pleased to know that I am spending my gap year doing things I love – I have 2 jobs now, tutoring History to a girl who is also called Chloe and working at a performing arts company as a teacher. Yes, me as a teacher! That is all in Norfolk/Cambridge so I am living with a lovely family at the moment near Norwich. They are all so lovely to me! I will also be going to be a chalet girl in January until the end of the season and then back at the performing arts company or travelling around a bit. We will see! I will be doing my 7th yea! r of panto this Christmas too, hopefully in London again or I’d be happy somewhere else. I had lots of auditions and follow ups so I find out about that soon!

When I was last at home, Mummy and I went to see your parents and brother. They’re all doing well, missing you of course, and they’re doing their annual trip to Spain. It’s no longer La Manga, but still the same country.

I am so busy right now, I just can’t wait for a time when I can visit you and tell you everything that is bothering me, that I’m anxious about and that I want to tell you!

With all my love,
Charlotte.

Family Camp

Dad:

We had a great week at Camp Mather, the family camp for San Franciscans near Yosemite. I’m curious why we never went when we were growing up, or that I never heard you mention it. I wonder if I would have enjoyed it as much as a kid as I did as an adult.

M.