Nana,
I didn’t forget this year. Today it’s been 15 years since you passed away. As is my own tradition, I am writing you how I am currently taking this day. Last year…last year I forgot. I woke up and felt so sad, but didn’t realize why until Mom reminded me of the date…and I felt so much shame. How could I have forgotten? What kind of a mindless existence was I trapped in that I let something like you slip from my thoughts? The year before? The year before was agonizing. I wrote you this little gem http://thesqueakyhamsterwheel.
I didn’t forget this year. Actually, this year I’ve spoken about you and every single memory I can come up with kind of non-stop. There were moments I had with you, that I hadn’t thought of since even before you died. You were so wonderful, abuela. I was so, so lucky to have you long enough that you’re part of the core of what makes me, Me. Fifteen years…gone by in the blink of an eye. That post from two years ago…I am so far away from that place…from those thoughts. From that confused state of anger and resentment. I was trapped, Nana. Prisoner of a past I could not let go of, tied to a life that was a lie to who I truly am…I wasn’t living. I hated thinking of you, of the rest of the family back home, of my past. I despised reliving the decisions I made without thinking of the consequences. Most of all, I was so ashamed of who I had become. A stranger to family and friends…a shadowed reflection in the mirror…my eyes barely recognizable. I felt old. I felt weary. I felt so, so alone in a world with 7 billion other beating hearts in it…mine was deaf, blind, mute…weary.
I am sorry for living my life that way for so long, Nana. For being afraid of trying anything that would make others disappointed or sad in me…when they didn’t even take a step back to consider that, maybe, I wasn’t happy at all. Please sit down for a second, and let me catch you up on what’s happened since my last letter…
I just finished my first semester in college. I can feel your smile as I typed that. I think I did pretty good, too. I was working full time and went at night. It was hard, to keep my focus…my brain isn’t what it used to be. Better late than never, right? I’m already enrolled for next semester. Three classes this time…I wish I could be telling you this over the phone. Um. Anyways. I moved out of my parents’ house, again. Now I have a tiny one bedroom apartment overlooking an empty field. It’s small, but warm…and I get to see the most amazing sunsets every afternoon when I get home from work and stand on the balcony. I have new people in my life that have just…brought me back to life. They’re the ones bringing the Yari you knew back to working conditions. I’m painting again. It had been 10 years since I picked up a paintbrush. I’m playing guitar and writing new music…easily been 5 years since I did that. I’m working more on my photography. So much more. Daily. The thing is, the world looks so different now, Nana. The sunsets are no longer the end of a day…a blue sky peeking through some trees is no longer just a Tuesday afternoon…everything is beauty and life. Grandma, everything is Love. I dream almost every night now. The nightmares…so very few of them. Remember I was having those recurring nightmares, every other day since I was 7? I haven’t had one in almost 6 months. I’m off my anti-depressants. I haven’t cut in 3 months. I’ve been patient and kind with Dad. I think I forgave him, finally. I’ve been talking poetry and art with Mom again. The other day we went for a drive, just them two and I, and we sang in the car. Remember the old songs? I was always singing every time we went for a drive? We sang them…together, laughing and…you were on my mind so much that night. My best friend, he knows…what you mean to me. He knows how much all these small changes are adding up to bigger things in my future. Most of all, he understands. Everything. All the things that made me a weird kid, I don’t have to explain them to him. It’s unspoken. Even in silence, we see the world the same way…and he’s pushed me to get out of the wallowing and self-pity…he’s pushed me to take risks and chase after the 200 thoughts that drift out of my head and into the wind…To make things happen. And. They are happening. I am smiling.
Fifteen years and I can only say this: My heart aches in a different way. I now miss you because I cannot share with you all the good in my life. My loves. My secrets. My freedom. I miss your voice. I miss your eyes. I miss your support. But I no longer feel empty when I think of you…because I am becoming who you always knew I would be. I am making it up as fast as I can…
I love you with all my heart. Fifteen years…but…I am here to tell you, I’m 12 again. Those 15 years have slowly been erased…and I’m starting it over. This time, with you right here with me. You have never been gone.
P.S. You would LOVE my new coffee maker.