A Letter to Myself
Dear Laura,
I have been dying to tell you how strong you truly are. During this whole season, during all of the twists and turns, I can’t stop thinking about when you walked into the hospital on that sunny day in June. That sticky, humid day, born to torture us with the heat of its touch, only gave you more strength to keep going. It’s the exact moment when I felt your strength, presence, and resilience so vividly. When the unimaginable strikes, you do whatever it takes to get through. That day you were channeling your inner movie shero, this badass woman who never gave up. You caught a glimpse of yourself reflected on the glass doors. With shades on, disheveled hair, coffee in hand, and a rolling suitcase, you laughed. You couldn’t let it beat you. Yet you had a sinking feeling, it already had.
The box you had been living in, full of hospital supplies, a barrage of nurses, dirty hospital floors, and beeping machines felt suffocating. But after a brief respite, a shower, and a snack, it was time to face the battle once more. Walking into the hospital once again, the sick green walls seemed to close in. Are they smaller than they were when this all started? The clock seemed to stand still and go faster all at once. What was time during this? When he lay in a bed, machines hooked up to his chest and arms? Did it even exist anymore?
You pushed the button to the elevator and waited. It was all waiting now. Waiting for good news. Waiting for death.
Stop biting your fingernails, Laura.
You breathed in deep, your mouth as dry as cotton and your head as jumbled as tangled yarn. Ding!
It was time.
Like a video played in slow motion, the elevator ascended to the fourth floor. You make small talk with the people next to you. Are you here to watch your love one suffer too? Yes. We all were. We were in a club together, that we never wanted to be in. We give each other a knowing knod. Good luck, we say.
Is this real life? I know it felt surreal, Laura. I know that you were just trying to make it through each second, each hour, each day, without breaking. You needed to be strong. You needed to be the hope, even when your blood ran cold as ice with fear: of his absence, of who you would be without him.
But you pushed it down and you held on to the sunshine: the late night dance parties at 3 am in the break room, the yoga in the hospital hallways at 4, and the late nights we snuck out of the hospital so he could breathe the air for a moment in time, his gown flapping in the wind. You laugh because even as he dies, he sees through life like you never could. If only you could hold on to this exact moment just a little longer. You took in the energy you felt afterwards, a jolt of horsepower, like that of a mazaratti, to keep you going through the dark nights.
The fear was still there, buried, underneath it all.
But here’s the thing, Laura. You got through it.
You were strong.
You didn’t give into fear.
You were a badass.
You still are.
You don’t have to be strong, but you can be. You are capable of this kind of determination. You can turn ash into daisies, do you not see? Others may not. They may see weakness. They may see sticky sweetness but you, love, you are not just sweet. You are fire. Do not let their thoughts of you weaken your flame.
Having to live through this pain and isolation, it is hard, but you, my dear one, can do hard things. I know you don’t want to. I know going back to the way things were would be so joyous. You would be grateful now, for all the things you took for granted. An extra long hug, a friend’s high five, sharing a beer at your favorite bar…
It all seems too distant now. But one day, you will be free of this kind of life, and you will remember, once again, how truly strong you are.
These walls were not meant to hold you, but to remind you of all the ways you must break free, to live into the woman you have become.
And damn, she is beautiful.
*This writing was off of the prompt “I have been dying to tell you…” with addition phrases that must be integrated at certain points in the writing. Thank you to Rupi Kaur for the exercise!
Photo by Me after a run, feeling extra quarantine-y. :)
