Trulogy

To my dearest, oldest friend

I'm sorry my last conversation with you was about the welfare of your dogs and health insurance, at least I told you I loved you, I find a small amount of comfort in that. I mean, who knew you were going to die less than 2 weeks later of heart failure at age 38? What I wish I told you was: You were like a sister to me all these years. I wouldn't be who I am today if it weren't for you. I will never have a friendship with anyone elselike the friendship I shared with you.  Not a day goes by that I don't think about you, it's 8 months now, and sometimes I even smile instead of cry.  Lucky that we had the 30 years--but ridiculous that the other 30 was stolen just like that.

To Dad, gone 30 years today

The doctors said you'd be coming home soon. Said your heart was on the mend. By the time I arrived, you were already gone. A priest tried to console me. I nearly shoved him through a picture window.

In raising my daughter, I've  passed om what you gave me: your kindness, your humor, your intelligence. I give her these like a handful of seeds and watch them grow in her.

To my Grandfather

I barely knew you. Whatever you did to drive my dad away meant that we only got to see you when my mom brought us to visit for one afternoon every summer. I remember you grey, fuzzy, not much there. It wasn’t until later that I found out about the court-ordered brain sizzling you got. I wish I’d known you before that happened. I wish you’d been a better parent so that I could have known you, and so my dad could have been a better parent to me. I was abroad when you died, so I couldn’t come to the funeral. It sounded like your life was pretty miserable at the end, so I’m guessing it was better to die. But I wish your life had been better, and I hope wherever you are now is better still. I still have the bookshelf you made me when I was little, and I still use it. I’ll never get rid of it. Thanks, Grandpa.

Dear Dad

I didn't understand what it was back then, the things I saw, the things you did to me, how they would shape my life. For a long time I hated you. The for a long time I pitied you. Lately I am grateful for the strength I have, which has come from the hell you put me through.

To a friend

I am sad that you’re gone. You were kind and smart and funny, and you had a good heart. I’m sorry that you were so sad that you took your own life. I wish I had known you better, that I had had any idea that you were in danger from yourself. I would have called or written or done anything I could to help you know that the world wanted you here.
 
Instead as the time that passed since I saw you last piled up, I just told the same funny story over and over any time I could, that time you made that joke that still makes me laugh when I think about it. Now I can’t tell that story without thinking of the poor person who had to find your dead body and all the people who have had to deal with the aftermath. I don’t know who it was that found you, I don’t even know how you did it, but I know that it had to be 100% suck for whoever it was, and I wish you had thought about that person, who it was going to be, how it was going to change the rest of his or her life.
 
And I wish I could tell you that you’re missed, but you’re dead now, so you can’t hear me. It’s not fair.

To my Grandfather

You were a five dollar bill at Christmas. A wavering voice on the telephone on my birthday. A family joke. A family tragedy. Still, when I heard you'd died in that cold town upstate, I felt I'd lost something. 

For my Grandmother

You taught me about generosity like no other. You always made me feel loved. I’m so glad you knew my daughter for a little while and grateful you knew I was getting married before you died (only because I know that was important to you). I miss you all the time.

To an Uncle

I will never forgive you for what you took from my childhood.

For a young man who killed himself

Every time I think of you, I wonder if I could have stopped it. I saw you that time, but you left before I could speak with you. I remember thinking I should follow you, talk to you, reach out, try to bring you back into our lives. But I didn't. I figured I was there if you wanted me, and I let you walk away. Three weeks later, you shot yourself in a car. I will never forget your mother sobbing when I gave her the poem I wrote for you. Do you know how selfish killing yourself was? Do you know that to ease your pain you caused all of us unbearable agony, particularly your family?

You cried when you saw me in my wedding dress. You were such a beautiful young man, with such a great spirit and a big heart. I thought you would always stay that way. I didn't know that the alcohol and drugs would pull someone different out of your body, someone nasty and snide, someone cruel. Someone that stalked his ex-girlfriend. Someone that did terrible things. I think of your smile at my wedding, the way you looked all silly in a badly fitted tux, and how you pretended you weren't crying. That's what I want to remember.

I couldn't go to your funeral. I was going away, and I could have changed my plans, but I was so angry. So angry. A week later I sat on your grave with a friend, and we cried, and I couldn't believe you were there, beneath us, lost forever.

I often wish you could have met my daughter. She needs someone like you, a goofy uncle, someone who can show her how to skateboard and teach her how to love a man that isn't her father. You would have loved her! She's wild and fierce like you were, and raw and honest and kind.

I miss you. I'm angry at you. I loved you. And now you are gone. This is not how the story was supposed to end.

To my sister

You were here and gone so quickly. No more than a breeze. And before my time. But you were loved, deeply and fully loved. Sometimes I wonder what it might have been like, having an older sister, someone in the bed next to mine. Someone to giggle with after lights out. Someone to show me the way when Mom only knew how to hit.

I have a daughter now. You would love her, and be proud to be her aunt. She's bright and fierce and so in love with life. She's a waterfall when she laughs and November snow when she sleeps. I gave her your name.