A Letter

Dear Memere,

It has been almost thirteen years since you left us. Thirteen years since I heard your voice, heard you tell me you loved me. Thirteen years since you told me about all the crazy animal adventures that you were having so far away from me. Thirteen years of wishing you were still here and knowing you will never be here again. I suppose I shouldn't wish you were still here, because I know that you would be hurting. I don't want you to hurt, Memere. I just don't want to keep missing you like I do.

I can barely remember your voice. I watch those videos Dad made to keep you alive in my mind. I look through the pictures to keep your face fresh in my soul. Its hard, though, knowing I will never see you again. That I had only such a short time to be loved by you. To get to know you. I wish I had gotten to know you better.

Though, a part of me is terrified that if you were here you wouldn't love me anymore. You wouldn't be proud of me. That is more terrifying than any nightmare I could ever have. The thought that you wouldn't love me if you were still here makes me work harder to be a person you might be proud of. A person you would always love, in spite of my many, many, faults. And I have so many, Memere. More than I can count, even.

I wonder, sometimes, when I look in the mirror and see my reflection staring back at me, if you would like the person I am today. Would I still be someone you enjoyed talking to? Would I have ever sent Dad a hateful letter? Would we all still be clinging to some semblance of a family?

I can't remember how you smell, or what it felt like to be in your arms. I can't remember those little things that would make you still real in my world. I would give anything to talk to you again. Anything to hear your soft accent. Anything to hear you tell me again about the bear in the neighbor's swimming pool or the lizard in your trash can.

I'd give anything to have had you there when I got married. I don't think I've ever missed you as much as I did that day. It was beautiful, even though it was just a courthouse ceremony. I think you would've liked it. I hope you would've liked it.

Its unfair, Memere. Its unfair that you left me when I was so young. I've spent my entire growing up wishing you were here. Praying that somehow the dead could come back, even for a few minutes. Just so I could say goodbye. I never got to say goodbye. I didn't get to go to your funeral. I don't even know where you are buried. Are you near Pepere? Are you somewhere beautiful?

Its such a strange feeling, really. To be so young and have no grandparents left. Pepere first, you, Grandpa and finally Grandma Bobbi. It seems impossible really. Impossible that I have lost you all. Implausible. Improbable. Insane.

I suppose, simply put, I miss you. It only gets worse as I grow older. With each passing year I feel your absence more keenly. I think, "I wish Memere was here so I could tell her about this." But maybe you are here. Maybe you already know. Maybe you are still with me, even when I feel that I have lost all hold I thought I had on your memory. You are such a beautiful memory. Something I never want to lose. Where would I be without even a memory of you?

I love you.
I miss you.
I wish you were somehow here, just for a little while. Just so I could tell you everything I've been wanting to tell you for thirteen years. Just so I could tell you that I love you and I miss playing piano with you. I miss talking to you at night. I miss hearing your voice. I miss that most of all, just hearing you speak always made me feel better. I wish that wishing would give me something besides a throb of pain in my chest and in my throat from holding back the tears.

Dear Memere, I love you.

Love,
Sarai.