I still see you there.

Hiding, like a dragon in its lair,
When in truth you were just a little girl who wanted someone to care.

shaking, whimpering in a secret corner of my heart 
Sick of the shadows
scared of the dark,
…but so tired 
Tired of the lying,
of the never-ending heartbreak
And of the people who caused it, and keep trying.

Always hurting that sweet innocent giving,
little girl, You used to be
I understand the feelings
Because you,
Used to be me.

Always just Another unfortunate lesson you were made to learn.
And another heart in the flames
that eternally burn. 

You just want to protect yourself

I’m sorry I can’t say it gets much better,

Living under that curtain of thick, brown hair
Avoiding those heavy, thousand-yard glares.

I see you, standing there
Alone, in the cold stormy weather
But Always pulling through
And for that
I’d Personally
like to thank you.

Even as no one saw our own tears glistened,
You were always
Talking and taking the time to listen.
Healing others while your own heart quickened.

So thank you.
for holding out hope even when we were at the end of our long tenuous rope.

you were a patient, kind, and wild child
Moral belief guides your mouth and your feet.
Never talking out of turn
but unafraid to speak.
We fought for the right reasons
For family, for goodness for me.

Something that used to seem so easy
Now far from ease.
You lived life as you pleased and lived life by your own code of morality.
Sometimes it’s hard to actually remember and believe
That you’re me.

Like when we put our dollars in the donation jar for troops,
Because everyone deserves to get to talk to their family. though you’re own rarely talked to you.
those were just the types of things we’d do.
besides we had two dollars and a cookie only cost one.

Money was nothing but an object to us, and the real prize was adventure life, and love.
So to us, it was harmless fun that could help someone.

You hold A fearless trust that the world couldn’t mess up,
And a strong belief that this world was capable of good deeds.
Always Made up of shades
of black and white
wrong and right,
Dark and light
good, or bad
We believed whole-heartedly in humanity

Until they said we were too “different”
“Naive to believe”
And like Icarus clipped our wings
Then when he flew too close to the sun
Left us falling.

Child,
I see you… me
And I’m sorry life wasn’t what you expected it to be,
physically or morally,
But I’m thankful you’re still the hope in me
Sometimes I just ask what that brave kid would think,
As we’re Growing into the person we were always meant to be and need.

I’m proud of you,
sincerely you /me.
P.S., it’s hard but keep going till we get where we need to be.

They always said you had a wild imagination. A little story weaver, dashing between worlds and characters, creating the tallest tale ever to be witnessed, a symphony of grandiose that made those stories almost feel like magic. The worlds you can visit are that of such adventure and excitement. And that is something you deserve to always keep. One of the things they don’t tell you about growing up is there are so many made up rules and stories we continue to tell each other that are so poorly written they cause nothing but fear. And if there is one thing I know about you is you do.not. Like horror movies. And when you have no choice but to choose which part you need to play in the big facade of it all, you will feel like you need to fit yourself into a box of expectations that is far too small to contain all the parts of you. And you learn the villains in all those stories you love so much and the evils you fight in your dreams are indeed real–they just take the form of other humans who are so desperate for their inner child to be loved they throw the biggest tantrums you could ever imagine. And they are the bullies, the ones who found value in one of the things that we made up in this world. Our worth is not defined by an imaginary dollar we have been taught to chase. Our worth is defined by the very real existence we get to experience as this bright, beautiful, creative and boundless person we always dream of being.

Who you are matters, what you like matters, how you feel matters. You will be taught certain beliefs that are not yours to hold and they might make you feel wrong, feel like the depths of your goodness is too much. But if there is one thing I know for certain is you have always deserved to be love in the same ways you are capable of loving. And my love, being able to feel in such extremes is both a blessing and a curse. The hurt you were made to feel was never your burden to bear, it’s not your fault your generational trauma comes in the form of such deep depths of hurt sometimes light cannot reach far enough. But it is both a blessing and a curse to feel so deeply–but how lucky you are to feel so deeply and imagine so vividly and concoct potions of such power you cannot help but attract all you could ever dream of. Continue to lean into the passion, lean into the adventure, lean into the deep want of incredible quakes. All those big feelings that swell in your stomach are your superpower, and we both know we’ve always wanted to have a super power.

It will be scary and you will have to be brave. But if the bravest heroes in the best kinds of stories can face their greatest fears, so can you. When it becomes too much, it’s ok to pick the part you know you can play. But do remember you deserve to choose to be you–in fact it’s usually more fun when you get to place yourself in the life you are living.

Remember to find the perfect music to fit the moment, follow your curiosities (our Gemini sun keeps us trekking) and follow your heart when it comes to what story you want to tell next. You always have a great one up your sleeve, who I am is proof of that.

Love you to the stars and back (which is infinitely because the universe is probably a donut shape or something). I cannot wait to see what we get up to next.

You’re a superstar baby,
Your Future

Dear Romeo,

Since you’ve been gone, all I can think about is what you taught me. I am so
grateful to have learned so many life lessons from you. You were my best
friend and almost my lover too. Here is some of your best advice:
● Don’t dress like an elf (even though I still have my elf shoes, I
coordinate them now . . . most days anyway).
● Don’t hang up the phone without saying a proper goodbye and giving
the other person a chance to do the same.
● Don’t dance to music ridiculously; appreciate it.
● Appreciate items genuinely when someone lets you borrow them and
make sure to give them back.
● Be extra patient with the people you love.
● Be thankful and grateful for the little things and smallest of gifts.
● Learn by doing.
● Get sincerely excited when something awesome is happening (like
being at a Flogging Molly concert)
● Love the planet, protect it, and stand up for it, even if you fail.
● Go to the places you have always dreamed of going, and do the things
you have always dreamed of doing.
● Appreciate great music (metal bands like Of Mice and Men, Attila,
beautiful bands like Pretty Lights, and some goofy 80’s and 90’s bands
like New Kids on the Block)
● Always make time for the people you love.
● Be yourself and don’t worry about impressing people.
● Love the quiet spots of home (Beans Bottom, the pump house, etc.)
● Never feel like you have to deal with anything alone. Those who love
you the most will never let that happen.
Your Best Friend,

To you, to me, to us:

When I think about you, I do not remember much. I remember sadness—a lot of it. But I do not know why and I want you to know that I have been on the search for the reason ever since I understood that hearts can, in fact, be broken. I joke a lot about how my heart, your heart, our heart has been broken since we entered into the world. A sparkly bandaid that I like to put over the wound. We still love sparkles.
I am sorry for all of the fear. I am sorry for all the ways I held you back. Stayed small. Kept quiet. Didn’t get into trouble. Because Dad would yell. Mom would cry. I would cry. You would cry. We would cry.
There are days when I think we knew too much and then days when I think we knew nothing at all. This is still a common occurrence. Did your feet ever feel like they were on the ground? Because mine still do not.
I miss twirling around, in a tutu, carefree. I wonder if we didn’t do enough of that. If we did, would I still be longing for that feeling?
Every time I think of you, you’re wearing pink. Your light brown, thin hair is disheveled, and your bangs are ever so slightly tangled between your long eyelashes. You’re wearing ballet slippers. Your skin is porcelain and so soft, untouched. Your little, round belly hanging over your tutu. The days before you learned what it felt like to want to flatten it and roll your shoulders back to try so hard to be tall and thin. The days before you needed to learn how to self-soothe. I want you to know that you did a good job. I want you to know that I am proud of you. The times when you did talk back and got in trouble. Even if you shied away not long after. I want you to know I am proud of your independence. Even if we are still just a little scared of a lot of things.

I want you to know that we now make an abundance of noise. Every day. And although we are not in a tutu, we are still whirling and twirling around under a disco ball with our favorite songs playing over loudspeakers in a dark room with pretty lights. And we are far from silenced.
We use our voice. We use our words to show people that they don’t have to just self-soothe. They don’t have to stay small.
We use our body too. The one that over the years suffered an incredible amount of dislike. I am sorry about that too. But we learned, just how strong we are. Mentally and physically and I am sorry it took me so long to honor every little piece of you because when I look back, I see that you are stronger than I gave you credit for and if it wasn’t for you twirling around in your little pink tutu, I wouldn’t be here now. You wouldn’t be here now. Thankful for all of the self-soothing. For all of the hurt. The search for love that ended in heartbreak which then ended in strength.
Thank you for your resilience. I hope to continue to make you, me, us, proud.

a time when life felt free,
where your mind could just be.
the harshness of the world has not yet consumed you,
it’s a time where your wildest dreams can still be true.
The world is still in color
a time before the world got duller
when unicorns still exist
and your face is sunkissed
you’re dancing in the rain
and there’s not yet anyone to blame
Before all the pain
when you had nothing to gain.

A time when the sun shines brighter,
where you just felt lighter.
when your mom still loved your dad
and cuss words were bad
A time when you were naive
when anyone could make you believe
when your mind felt free
and laughter was the key
A time when your life couldn’t get any better
except maybe if your mom bought you that new sweater

Dad,

It’s been six years. Six years of living with a pain I knew was inevitable. With the inevitability of it, one could hope to prepare but the magnitude of your presence made that impossible and I knew that too.

For twenty-three years, you were the best dad. As cliché as it may sound, you were. A single parent to a strong willed, sharp tongued little girl, or as most would say, just plain mean, you ensured I had everything I needed, patience, love, and understanding…along with the material things. Looking back, your resourcefulness is astounding. I remember you calling into radio stations, winning tickets to see ballet troupes such as, Les Ballet Africains or concert tickets for groups like the Wailers. You wanted to expose me to as much as possible. I had the privilege of going everywhere with you, including your job. Every day. By the time, I was fourteen, I had traveled to over fifteen states, and none of your colleagues would be surprised to see me at your annual conferences. You put me in tennis and dance classes, and would stay up all night helping me with homework and consistently gave me satirical approaches to biased essay assignments.

While everything you did for me was remarkable, your exceptional character left the indelible mark. Being an educator and organizer, I observed you at many podiums. The well being of people was your priority. It was exhibited in you letting your students borrow your personal laptop so they could complete assignments and in your organization of events attended by thousands fighting against injustices. You were known for closing out conversations, meetings, and speeches by saying ‘Forward!’ The full version being, ‘Forward Forever! Backward Never!’

Growing up, I had an acute awareness that you likely would not live an extensive life due to the work you did and the society we live in. I constantly stressed about how I would live in a world without you. I would remind myself that wasn’t my reality, ‘cross that bridge once we arrive’ and I hoped to never get there, but then you were diagnosed with cancer at stage 4 and after fighting several years, we arrived at that bridge.

I’ll never forget being the one to tell you and I apologize for not delivering the news with the tenderness I know you would’ve if the roles were reversed. Three weeks. That was the prognosis. In the proceeding days, I grabbed a pen and yellow pad, but that wasn’t enough. I opened the voice notes app on my phone and pressed record, prepared to soak up as much knowledge as I could. Most of my questions were met with an “I don’t know.” I was frustrated but I recognized that while you were dying you didn’t have the ability to write the story of how I would live. You never did. You always told me my life was mine. At the end of the day, I had to be happy. “I don’t know” wasn’t the only answer I got that day to my endless list of questions. You also told me to maintain my principles and when asked what I should keep in mind at all times when life got hard and I needed you, you said remember all the happy moments. I didn’t know what to do with that or so I thought.

About a month after you passed, I reached out to the advisor of the academic journal for my graduate program about returning to the editorial board for which I had served as an editor the year prior. I was simply asking if I needed to apply to the position again. It was fun and I was no longer a caregiver so I figured I didn’t have a reason not to. I received an unexpected response; she emailed back letting me know that she would like to discuss me becoming the next co-editor-in-chief. Given my social anxiety, I thought the logical response would be to respectfully decline like I did the undergraduate valedictorian speech where you were quietly disappointed. There was no way I could oversee a board of my peers and be a primary voice in publishing a publication that reflected them along with an academic institution, but I knew to identify the voice that was saying I couldn’t, fear. You always repeated the quote “There’s nothing to fear but fear itself. ” So, despite my fears, I took the position. I asked us to define our objective because everything should be done with a purpose. Most importantly, it should be done together. You taught me that the world should be left a better place than we found it. We should leave something for the next generation to build off. The only way we leave something substantial is by working together so I blurred the lines of editors, managing editors, and co-editors-in-chief ensuring that all decisions were made collectively and objectively. You encouraged and nurtured critical thought. “You need to think at all times.” I remember that coming to me the night before our most important meeting where our shortlist would be finalized and I jokingly thought ‘what interesting ideas would be mentioned to increase readership that weren’t in line with our objective’ so I could prepare. However, I ended up coming up with an idea that did align with our objective, to have a panel at the annual research symposium, which the board was excited to create. A month before we published, I received another unexpected email, I was the co-recipient of one of the department’s annual awards, for making the greatest contribution to the student association and publication. They went on to detail what I mentioned above. My goal in defining our objective, fostering a democratic environment, and developing ideas for growth wasn’t to win an award but lead the creation of a body of work people could be proud of. Not just those actively working on it but those who entered the program after us. That was you.

Three years later, I was seeking a job opportunity where I could grow and develop my skills. I came across a position at a prestigious university. For once in my life, I didn’t overthink it. I applied. During my third interview, walking around the campus, the interviewer asked if I thought I could oversee a student staff of seventy people. Without hesitation, I said “yes.” So much so, he responded, “yes?” and I reaffirmed. In that moment, I honestly shocked myself. Before eventually accepting the position, the largest staff I oversaw was that of about twenty people. I didn’t know how I would do it successfully. How I would make sure they not only succeeded in their responsibilities of the position but I nurtured their talents and skills in preparation of them entering the real world, how I would lead meetings, present to large audiences and stakeholders on their behalf. Nine months into the position, on my birthday, I got a text message, a two-minute video of more than twenty students sending well wishes and saying thank you. Two months later when our seniors graduated, I received messages and cards expressing similar gratitude.

I thought I didn’t know how to live in a world without you, but in continuing to just move forward, one step at a time, I think I do. Thank you.

Love,

I like the way you try to help others in certain situations and give advice
I like the way you get your eyebrows sharper than a fingernail
I like the way you have a open mind about anything or anyone
I like the way you’re learning how to communicate and be patient
I like the way you have a fear of rollercoasters but aren’t afraid to jump out a plane
I like the way you value alone time even though your friends are awesome
I like the way you smile even when you’re sad some days
I like the way you can sing the alphabet with your mouth closed and type a whole paragraph with your eyes shut
I like the way you’re not afraid to be harsh and be straight-forward with anyone
I like the way you stopped crying everyday for something sad and instead crying for something joyful

Dear Family Friend,

It’s been a while since I last wrote you a thank you note or any letter.

It’s not even ten years since you went to the After Life.

In the beginning, I would never have considered you and your sister becoming our friends of the family since we had nothing in common. But life is full of great surprises.

My brother and I still remember when I put my big life-size plush dog in the coat closet to jump at you when you opened the door. And then you did the payback of putting him in the bathtub behind the shower curtain for me to jump back. Good one!

It was lovely of you to cut your long auburn hair and donate it to make wigs for kids with cancer. I never realized how thick it was. I still treasure my long hair, but intend to donate it one day in your honor.

When having your first grandson, you kept saying “I’m too young to be a grandma!”, as one in her forties. Soon enough, you would not stop talking about him and showing many baby pictures. I almost wanted to poke fun at the fact that you weren’t ready to be a grandma beforehand. I’m so glad now I kept quiet——it was one of your most joyous times, a month before the diagnosis.

I know everyone has habits, and sometimes can’t help it. Yet, this was one of those times that I hated smoking.

Because you loved my handmade items, you asked that I knit you a purple hat with the light yellow cancer ribbon attached. I always knew that I would knit hats for cancer patients. But never thought the first was to be for a friend.

When you had the strength to visit, you proudly displayed the hat I made. Then, you took it off to show your bald head that once held the short thick auburn hair. I knew that the hair was gone. I only stood there, emotionless, mind blank. With your hand on my shoulder, from hazel eyes to brown eyes, you said “It’s going to be alright. I’m fine.”

You needed to say that for yourself than for me at the time. You wanted courage. You never want us to worry or fret.

For months, it looked like you would beat it. In the end, cancer beat the chemo. Only months left. There was nothing to do.

You and your family got to watch over my cat, for the last time, She sure liked you since she was a kitten. I believe she knew you were going away, because she wasn’t energetic, and didn’t want to play for six weeks… as if she were in her way of mourning.

It was a stormy, summer Sunday when you left.

Your memorial service was very colorful. Your “Wizard of Oz” collection is on display, some items for auction (so to take your ashes to New York since you wanted to go there), with cookies and donuts, and many of the firefighters there as friends of yours. And it’s like you are playing the last prank by being late to your funeral! (They forgot to take your ashes to the altar!)

You always admired anything made by me and my brother. You said that if any of us became famous, you would love a personal autograph. Your sister and you were among the few who believed in us. Sometimes, I feel survivor’s guilt since you aren’t here to see our success or published work based on your encouragement and support. It will even be harder in the years to come.

Yet, you never would want me to live a life that isn’t mine. You wouldn’t want me to pity or be easily discouraged, not even let me live the simple life, knowing I wouldn’t be happy to live that way. You would want me to unlock all the creativity from my mind to change the world!

So far, your sister stopped working in the cleaning business and now works alongside children with special needs.

My brother is still in love with filming and has worked on a few fun projects.

You would have loved to meet my husband. He’s very sweet, supportive, and has some jokes and pranks up his sleeve from time to time like the rest of us.

As for me, I’ve been working on my handmade items for a future business, but have my hands full in writing projects. Each one step closer to something more to fulfill the long-time dream.

We all miss, and think of you, often. I know that whatever my life will be, you will shout and cheer me on. I will see you again one day, friend.

Plenty of days
In plenty of ways
I never thought
I had to live without
The woman who birth me
Continuously struggling
With her absence
Trying to put the pieces back together
Rebuilding my life
Without my mom
To witness my success
And the failures
I had to overcome
Without her keen talks
To cheer me up
Makes me feel sad and blue
I yearn for her voice
Her smile
Her laugh
Her presence
That’s why I always tell people
Cherish your mom
‘Cause losing her
You can never get another
Just memories to last forever
Besides my Bae, family and close friends
Being a source of inspiration
My mom is honestly the driving force
Behind my tenacity
She taught me the importance of
Hard work and dedication
She was amazing at everything she did
She got opportunities to live her life
As she saw fit
Much of her is in me
I’m her twin
Many can tell by just looking at me
In life and in death
My mom continues to show me
I can do all that I set out to do
No matter what I’m doing
Or what I’m going through
I take a moment or two
To reflect:
What will mommy do?
What will mommy say?
All the while reminding myself
That she is 1 of the reasons
That I am who I am
I’m forever grateful
For my Granny and Grandpa
God rest their souls
‘Cause without them
There will be no Margot
So I’m forever thankful
For her legacy
Now it’s time to create mines
Mama, I will make you proud‼️

I really miss you.

It didn’t hit me until this year.
Almost 11 years later, just to remind me of how the 11’s, 13th’s and 21’s loved to dance in my head.
Having their own ballet of unfortunate events in my memory bank.
While your memory plays on a loop.
Yet that value always outweighs the sadness.
Holding on to your memories like toes on a tight rope. And as I still walk around cautiously keeping my head on a swivel because you always told me how to aim high.

And here I am…. still looking up hoping that one day you’d say something. Tell me that everything that I have been through is bringing me to this point. That all my worries are just stepping stones. That you are proud.

We don’t get that luxury down here but to know is all we need.
Great is thy faithfulness and to be absent is to be present above. How the way love always carried a tune with you.
You always taught me so much.
Leaving your mark.
I just wish your fragrance lasted longer.

Out of all the things you’ve taught me the urge to not question God never faded. I’ll never know what could come from this grief. While still being curious.
Why did you have to be on the starting pick for the 2013 Draft? Out of all the strongest players but this must be the best seat.
Seeing my accomplishments and growth.
Acknowledging that you are proud in my baby girls smile.
Without creating the space within me I really wouldn’t be in the place I am in.
Walked in rooms that I could only imagine the smell of the paint.
As your memory remains on going. Know that everything is still in remembrance of you.
And I may didn’t live up to my end because life just has its own way.

I miss you. Sorry that it took me so long to add ink to it.

Lourdes Islas Martinez, I didn’t know you.
I never thought I looked like you.
But I think of you almost every day.

When I was little, I thought of you when I looked down at my thumbs.
“Those skip a generation,” Mom said. “My mother had thumbs like that!”

Is it weird to say I feel connected to you by toe thumbs?

As I approached forty (and Mom had made it to sixty-seven) I wondered if what had taken you early from your family would take me early from mine. Does cancer skip a generation too?

When I lost my pregnancy and someone said something ugly, I cried and cried and cried.
I stopped taking your great-grandbabies on field trips.
On Sundays, I hid between the pews.

Do you remember how your memory snapped me out of my misery when I had a panic attack too?

It was Mom’s memory of you and Aunt Lizzy and the watermelon seeds.
It made me think of something else.
It was another weird connection (kind of like toe thumbs).

‘Cucaracha! Cucaracha!!! CUCARACHA!!!!’
Mom ran into the kitchen screaming while you were on the phone!

You ran into the bathroom, screaming at those little black ovals.
They were floating, creeping, SNEAKING toward Lizzy’s chubby legs.
Mom laughed and teased, “Those are just my watermelon seeds!”

You were too kind to punish her.
You just said, “Wait until your father gets home.”

Do you know Mom ends every story of you the same way?

My mother was the kindest person.
I wish you could have known her.
You are just like her.
You would have loved her.
She was very social.

That day I cried until my heart was in my throat,
I was thinking of you, Mom, and Aunt Lizzy and the watermelon seeds.
I was picturing you in heaven pain free.
Were you whispering to me?
Or was it God with a divine Dad joke?
I don’t know, but this was the thought that came:

Dead people don’t gossip—they have better things to do.
Don’t you?

That snapped me up and made me laugh.
It was true.

I couldn’t picture you fretting over church gossip.
In the presence of God and everything holy and good.

Though I hadn’t been the one spreading it,
I’d been repeating it.
I’d been saying it in my mind and thinking things no one should.

That answer gave me peace that day, but it didn’t stop compulsive thoughts I tried not to think or “bad” feelings I tried not to feel.

If someone at church was unkind.
Or angry.
Or disappointed.
Or they gossiped about me.
It got me every time.

When that happened, I didn’t think of things said and done when I was young to try and make me conform or “believe.”
I just physically felt the same things as if I was again fifteen.

It would be years before other answers came.
Such as not allowing others to mistreat me or my family (even at church).

But that answer that day, thinking of you, turned my thoughts toward God.
It put me in His (and your) light.

The anticipation of a conversation
a moment’s pause, a heart’s sensation
An expectation of words unsaid
A binding connection, a delicate thread

The fabric was woven, the story was told
a legacy kept, forever to hold
A journey of words, a longing to know became a tapestry rich, a narrative to grow

The art of conversation, a gentle guide
leading me through the labyrinth of time
To listen to memories, a heart’s treasure a mind’s archive, a soul’s measure

All that you were and the joy you spread became part of me, of who I am
Reflections of my younger days your voice, your presence, your beautiful face

Our memories, an album of distant times
keeps the joy of better days alive
Reluctant to embark on unknown paths
comfort comes from waves of our past

Your existence upon which I became
was a guide, a light, so much more than name
The courage you showed throughout your life
echoes deep within the depths of my mind

In that stillness, I found my voice
A sense of clarity, a heartfelt choice
The silence beckoned, I found my way
to a place of peace, where love will stay