Ready To Let Go... (TW, contains stories about death and other dark topics)

TW - death and dead bodies

A letter to D. and S. who are both dead, and to M. who survived, and to my past self:

To D and S, I'm so sorry you died like that. I had a gut feeling about it, but I had to go looking for you. I found pieces of you, and almost threw up. They had made such a mess of you though, it felt disrespectful to make it messier, so I held it in. To D, the rest of you was found a few months later, so you've been properly buried now. It's been almost 5 years now. M is doing okay as she can.

To M, I'm so sorry for what you must have heard and seen. I'm sorry I couldn't have forseen it and protected you. The new place is a lot more succure, so you'll be okay, or at least as okay as you can be. It won't hapen again. You've done so well protecting the babies. It's going to be okay.

To my past self - you aren't resposible for what happened to them, no one could have foreseen that. They died before you got there, there was nothing you could have done for them. I know it's hard to take, but you can't save everyone. That's not your job. Your job is to do the best you can with what you were given. You did your best for M, and she lived. She's still alive and okay. You did good.

TW - Death, blood, cancer

A letter to A, who is dead:

You died over a year ago, but I sometimes forget. I'd make sure to put food you were allergic to out of reach thinking "Ah, A. might get to this if I leave it out," even though it had been months since you passed away. You were always so happy and full of life until that last year, huh? The doctors took care of your tumor the first time, but the second time they couldn't. We all knew they couldn't. I wonder if you understood?

I could hardly look at you sometimes. How could you be in so much pain and still smile? Then I'd feel guilty - I didn't want you to be neglected and lonely because I wasn't as tough as you. Something went horribly wrong, and you were bleeding too much. I'd never seen that much blood before. I still see it in my memories, but I think therapy is helping. When you left for the last time, you didn't say anything, but you looked at me like you were begging me to not let them take you away. I think you took a piece of my heart with you. I'm sorry you suffered so long.

It's been over a year, and the other day I finally went to see where they keep your ashes. I went with him, and we talked about how you died. It's so weird no one talks about it. I read your name on the container, so I think it's more real to me now. Some day we'll spread your ashes in one of your happy places, once she has fully processed it.

I think I won't have to pretend you're just in the next room, or out in the garden. I'll start remembering the happy memories with you again, instead of blocking it all out.

To my past self: You can't prevent cancer, and they were in charge of her treatments, not you. Grieving is a long process - just don't forget the good memories, okay? She's not in pain now.

TW: Death, illness

A letter to K:

I guess this is my goodbye letter to you. You died just yesterday. I don't believe it sometimes, even though I was there with you for your whole last day. I'm not sure if you knew I was there those last few minutes, I just wanted you to know you weren't alone.

Thank you for all the time we spent together. You were always good company, and I enjoyed our walks together. Thank you for taking care of me when I was sick, and when I was sad. I'll miss our cuddle time (even though you usually had cold feet), and our conversations. You were always comforting just to be around.

It's funny, we met for the first time in October, and you left in October, too. That was a lifetime ago for both of us, wasn't it?

You were pretty sick in the end. I'm sorry it wasn't something I could fix, but I hope my company helped you at least. I'm glad you're not in pain anymore.

I miss you. I believe we'll meet again, though probably not for a long time.

TW: Suididal thoughts, Guilt, Hospitals

A Letter to Myself, past, present, and future:

It was okay when you waited ouside of the hospital room. You needed to breath. Hospitals don't hold good memories for you, so there were a lot of emotions to process on top of what was already going on. It's okay. You did your best, and he lived. There are others helping him now, professionals who know what to do.

It's not your job to save him. It's his resposibility to reach out for help when he has those thoughts, and he did. You did the right thing. You don't have to feel guilty for letting others help too. You aren't meant to do this alone.

It's okay. You did a good job. It's okay to let go of "what could have happened." It didn't, and he's alive. You don't have think of all the bad things that could go wrong in the future either, okay? That's a trauma response, you're trying to stop something that hasn't happened. Right now he's in a safe place.

Breathe. Slow deep breaths in, slow deep breaths out. You're doing good.

Maybe it's not okay in one sense, and maybe it's not always okay. But you're here. You didn't die in the past either, you're still here. I know. It's hard to seperate the present and the past, and it's a daily struggle, but you are still here.

It's all a process, so take your time. Be gentle like you would be with a friend.

I believe in you.

TW: Nothing graphic, just reflecting on some trauma topics mentioned in passing

A letter to my past self from 1 year ago:

Hi,

I know that things this time last year were pretty bad. We almost lost two family members in a matter of days.

We were about to have a couple of our worst nightmares over the next couple of days, and have many flashbacks. Let's be honest, things were pretty hellish.

I want you to know, it gets better. It's not perfect, but it gets better.

By this point in the future, we have had months of therapy. More traumatic stuff happened, but we got through it. Those family members lived. You lived. Covid happened (who saw that one coming?). New babies joined our extended family. We started college, something we hardly thought was possible, and we have passed all our classes. K passed away, but we stayed with her to the end. We laughed and cried a lot.

It's been a hell of a year, but piece by piece we made it through. Let's make it through this next year too.

A letter to the one who needs to hear this:

Hey, I know, you've made a lot of choices you regret. A lot of people hurt you over the years, and you've tried to be strong on your own for far too long. The burnout isn't easy. Don't mistake "painful growth" for "not worth it." You're doing your best, and that's all anyone can expect.

Keep reaching out. Reflect on your mistakes to learn, but if you find yourself ruminating, don't hesitate to ask for help. Even when you don't believe you don't deserve support, there are still people who love you.

Life isn't easy - but do you want to go on an adventure? Because it would be an awfully big adventure to live.

A letter to C. and K.

There's something about not getting a chance to say goodbye does to a person. It's a grief that is rarely acknowledged except as missing that person.

I remember when we were kids, we didn't talk a whole lot as far as I remember, but we had a lot in common. Same grade, both had an overbearing parent/dysfucntional parents who were somehow friends(?), both lost someone dear to us to cancer soon after we parted ways. We played games, and we went to the zoo together.

But we parted ways a long time ago due to reasons kids can't control. I didn't understand the adults issues, why they fought. I heard vague reasons, but it doesn't matter why, that's just gossip.

The thing is, I still miss you, becuse you were my friends and we never got to say goodbye one last time. So I guess this is my goodbye from a distance. We might still see each other again, but I'm saying goodbye to our childhood friendship that I never felt ready to let go of.

Thank you for being my friends when we were young. I'm sorry I didn't try to reach out when we both had our own griefs to process. I happy that last I heard, you both were doing okay. Is it okay that I let go? I hope so.

A leter to H and J:

I passed by your old house today. I felt a bit nostalgic, beause we were childhood friends - my older sibling babysat you both, therefore friendship. I hold on to the past too much, and I know we weren't super close, but having sleepovers was fun. Thank you for being my friends when we were younger.

A letter to F and T:

I remember you. We were all kind of strange and fanticiful children, weren't we? All the games and stories - but we've all grown up now, and you left a long time ago. I hope you are doing well. it was a lot of fun playing together, wasn't it? Thank you for being my friends when we were younger.

A letter to ST:

You were an old friend of my sibling, but for a little while we were friends too. I always had a lot of respect for how smart you were, and even though you were younger, I felt we were the same age. You post a lot online, I hope you are as happy as you seem in those posts. I was always fond of your whole family, but I was too shy to say it. Thank you for being our friend when we were younger.