When we talk about those we have lost it doesn’t have to mean someone has died physically, rather someone you have lost connection with or someone that decided to leave you mentally.
I chose this topic because this relationship that I no longer have with my mother has impacted me greatly in my life,
This was not my decision by any means but people have different reasons for things that they do.
I have not seen heard or talked to my mother in 27 years it seems like a travesty but in actuality it’s probably a good thing.
A little backstory:
My mother has always been into hard drugs as long as I can remember I remember crawling on the floor through needles in my diapers and I remember the (tax man) she called him coming to her house a couple times a week with a briefcase. God only knows what was in that briefcase. As I grew up I remember my mother getting taken out on a stretcher by the ambulance and police for what I have no idea I was probably about 6 years old, My mother had a lot of mental health issues along with the drug use, My grandmother ended up sectioning her a few times I can remember bringing her to the hospital and watching her fight, kick, punch and bite The orderlies it took five to assist in getting hurt tied down in the bed so she wouldn’t hurt anyone for herself anymore. Know that I’m grown and I look back at these instances on baffled at how a mother can let her child see and hear and witness all of these things at such a young age it breaks my heart but I’ve learned to cope. I don’t think you can ever cope fully to a situation like this flashbacks always happen for me I have PTSD and night terrors about things that used to happen I remember being woken up at 2:00 in the morning when I was 5 to be told that we had to get out of the house and go live somewhere else (We were living with my mother’s boyfriend at the time)
This happened on a number of occasions with different men. I went to a new school every year back and forth to my mom and dad’s never had a stable place.
I do feel bad for her she missed out on so much of her life as well as mine But I do not feel bad taking my sanity back and getting myself well. Like they say when you’re at the bottom of the barrel there’s no where else to go but up so you just got to keep trucking everybody has their own faults and decisions that they have to make. I do believe drugs obviously have a hand in all of this but I don’t believe that she didn’t have the option not to get involved with it those are our own decisions to make and the path we choose does impact others and to not think of it that way is selfish. For my sake in my kids sake I chose to break the ties with her she scares me And I don’t want my kids to ever feel like I did around her so they also have never met her. I feel like I want to miss her but I also feel like that’s letting my guard down and I’m so hyper-sensitive to not becoming her I know I’m not her and I know I don’t make these decisions that she makes and I know that I love my children and would never put them in harm’s way I just can’t wrap my head around The situation still I’m 41 years old now and I’m not involved in heavy drugs I do what I need to do to survive and I’ve got a pretty level-head on my shoulders so I guess I can thank her for that, but as for showing me how to be a mother I will take the credit for that
With all this in mind I guess the lesson learned is no one to walk away when you’re getting into deep your mental health is not worth it and the detrimental aftermath it does to everybody else
So again I’d like to say goodbye to my mother. that part of my life is over thank God.

*Disclaimer- There is reference to suicidal ideation- if you’re suffering please seek out help or call the suicide prevention hotline emergency number, 988.

Dear Angus,

I’m sorry this letter couldn’t make it to you. I know for certain that it does not find you well. If this letter could reach Heaven- I’d say “Sorry dude- I’ve never watched Euphoria.” I’d assume you’d think “fake fan.” LOL.

Your personal friends and family can attest to your attributes far better than me. So, I’ll just say this. When you took your life- it didn’t just hurt you. It hurt everyone who knew you, knew your name, and loved you. This letter is not to condemn your actions but to anyone who feels the same as you.

I don’t know the details surrounding your death (& don’t care to quite frankly) but I imagine you were quite scared, upset, and angry. The mind can play tricks on us in our low moments. Like saying that nothing even matters, what is there to live for now? For me, I try to counsel myself by saying this is all temporary. As in, “this too shall pass” (2 Corinthians 4:17).

My heart goes out to your Mom and close friends. May God rest your soul. You are gone but never forgotten! 🕊️

Sincerely,

Victoria

I wanted to write an introduction to this piece because this is not about one, it’s about a few of my family members that have passed.

To the lost and the lonely:
When I think of you I think of all of the obstacles that you’ve overcome in Your short life and the inspiration and sadness you left behind. Every one of you have inspired me whether it be suicide or a drug overdose I wonder, You checked out early. the Saddened reality of life starts to wash over your emotions, comes in slowly but fiercely Your conscience tells you no, but your mental state overpowers, give me one good reason why I had to stay here when you all took the easy way out and were able to let yourself be free finally. It’s not an honor to live anymore, You are honored in death they’ll whisper at your funeral, “how could she do that to her own children” “why didn’t anybody say anything”The blame, the grief, the sadness, the regret what could have been and what actually was.
Did it feel freeing at the bridge where you decided to take the inevitable dive? Did all your memories come flashing before your eyes like they say? Or was it just a jump into nice cold water letting go of everything you couldn’t stop?
Did you choke on all the pills that you took? were you able to feel any remorse before it took you over? did you think about your family before the inevitable? were you able to realize what you You couldn’t before? did you feel safe? were you cold?
Did you ever think that someone would be writing this about you thinking about you wondering you’re feelings maybe you thought no one wondered before I can only imagine what courage it took for you to take the final jump or injest the last pill that did you in. Do you feel the same about things now that you’ve passed do you have any regrets where do you think this was the best thing for you. Sometimes I contemplate doing the same but suicide and overdoses are made for people who are scared to face their problems maybe I am afraid Would anybody stop me? Would anybody care? Or would people just say they already knew that this was going to happen to me, because of the turmoil I grew up with Time does carry on when we don’t I guess it’s stronger than us It’s the only thing that keeps going when everything else stops.

Dear Mikaela LAUREN tick.

Today is the 10-year anniversary of which you PHYSICALLY passed.

Whenever I talk about you it’s ALWAYS in the PRESENT TENSE because I KNOW that you are ALWAYS guiding me down the hill , “looking down” on me, BUT that is the EXACT OPPOSITE. You look UP to me because of the thing that I fear people look down on me for.

As I go into the work force, I worry that no matter how sharply I dress, my Wobble will force me to immediately turn around – hey that rhymes😂

I know that you are there with me, telling me,“You are the one that needs to walk that frame of mind out the door!” I slowly have by writing about my disability.

Losing you physically will never become clear to me; it is clear as day that you are with me by this telling story.

Several months ago – maybe a year, I went out with Aunt Debbie and started telling her my struggles to feed myself the confidence I needed. On her suggest, I started following this on Instagram.

One day, while waiting for the bus to go skiing, a favorite activity of ours, I scrolled through my account and saw she was being interviewed on this platform, The Unsealed.

The platform turned out to be run by a woman named LAUREN, a former Sports Journalist, who created it to allow people such as myself, to tell their stories.

I JOINED and every since, I’ve been UNSEALING stories about my disability and life AND you bet THIS is GOING UP THEIR!

Please consider donating ANY AMOUNT of $$ to help Mikaela’s mission and the reason she IS an OT, SEEING the ABILITY in people!
The link is on my Instagram and Facebook bio!

LOVE YOU,🐘

JAKEY💜

Dear Mom,

Words can’t describe how grateful I am to have you as my mom. Growing up you gave me a great childhood. You made sure I had everything I needed to succeed. You have always been so involved in my life, encouraging me in my hobbies and passions, believing in the beauty of my dreams and advocating for me in my challenges. You are my biggest fan, my advocate, and my first love. Throughout the years you have shown me what fierce, true, and sacrificial love looks like. You have made countless sacrifices for the well-being of our family. You are truly selfless and have the biggest heart of gold. I hope that someday I will become an exceptional mother—just like you.

When I was in 5th grade you found an art class 20 minutes away from where we lived and you encouraged me to join. It didn’t matter to you that you had to drive 20 minutes there, wait till the class was over and then pick me up and drive 20 minutes home. When I was having trouble in math you sat with me and explained it to me to the best of your ability. You collaborated with my teachers so that I could succeed. And when one of my teachers wouldn’t give me the accommodations I needed you advocated for me. When I was upset because teachers were calling me “the evil one” you went to talk to them for me. You are always taking care of everyone—with kindness, gentleness, positivity, and compassion.

Now that I am older we have the deepest conversations. I learn so much from you. Your presence and involvement in my life is one of the greatest gifts. Even though I live 7 hours away from you, you make sure that I always know that you are only a call, text, FaceTime away. Knowing that you are there and being secure in your unconditional love have made me into the person I am today. It’s because of you that I believe in love at first sight. Even though I probably don’t say it as much as you need to hear it I want you to know that I love you to the moon and back, and I am so grateful that I get to be your daughter.

Love,
Hannah G.

Dear Christina,

In Carrie Underwood’s song “Some Hearts” she says “some hearts just get lucky sometimes.” I know that’s true. I am so thankful that you had the courage to ask me if you could room with me and Erin. That “yes” brought me a best friend. I’ll spend a lifetime thanking God for making me lucky enough to meet you, to get to know you—your silly, loving, caring, adventurous, courageous side. It’s as if you were meant to be in my life. You filled a void in my life that I needed to have patched up. You came just after heartbreak, you were the start of a new beginning with healthy, holy friendships in my life.

We were both shy when we started living together not wanting to appear weird to the other. But it didn’t take long for that shyness and awkwardness to disappear and for us to see that we were both speaking the same language. From then on we were sisters. We would go to the gym together to do yoga which always resulted in us goofing off and lots of laughter. Our macaroni and cheese and wine nights are began in the 2nd floor of Carmel and have continued to this day. Along with Erin we created several inside jokes that had us laughing at 4am. We braved a massive power outage together. You riled me up (in a good way) when I needed to be and you were also able to calm me down when I needed to be too. Even though you transferred to a different college the second semester we still stayed in touch and you even came to my graduation which meant a lot to me. We spent that day before my graduation catching up, eating yummy food that we were given for free, and watching Veggietales and Veggies in the House. It was the best way to close out my college career and it meant so much to me that you were there.

Girl, I have to say that I know it was more than fate that brought us together. I think God knew I needed a friend and He knew that together we would create memories and a friendship to last a lifetime. I can’t wait to see what new memories we will create and how our friendship will continue to be strengthened in the years to come. And I will forever be grateful to God for the risk that you took the day that you asked if you could room with me and Erin because it lead to one of the biggest blessings in my life.

Your best friend,

Dear Daddy,
My earliest memory of you was getting a goodbye kiss in the morning before you would go off to work. I would have my head on the pillow and you leaned down, gave me a kiss on the cheek and say I will see you tonight. I was the oldest of 3 girls so I had some special alone time with you. For example, when I was about 8 years old you took me to work with you. It was very exciting to spend a whole day with you and have you all to myself.
I have so many beautiful memories because I was blessed to have you for 66 years. Not many people live to that age and can say they still have their Dad. Well I am older now and I have lost you and it now there is a void in my life.You were always my sweet daddy. The man I looked to with love and admiration. I am so glad I was always able to express to you these feelings. You are the reason I am, what I consider, a good person.
Well life goes on. My children are older and are very good people. They are both hard workers and have good hearts. I have a grandson now. Thank you for giving me so many opportunities in life. You worked hard for your family and your sacrifices are appreciated every day. I was given a great blessing to have you as my father. My loving daddy Calvin David Kalstein, my WW2 navy hero.
Love, Your forever adoring daughter,

Dear Grandpa,

It’s been nearly 25 years since I last saw you, and what I remember most about you is how you made me feel. Whether at dinner on the holidays, playing cards, or sitting in your living room telling stories, you lived with a joy and zest for life that was so effortless, natural, and contagious.

Growing up, you were very athletic, just like me. So when I would tell you about the plays I made or the goals I scored, you’d say, “That’s my little athlete,” knowing I got my athletic prowess from you. I was very outgoing as a child, telling a stranger my whole life story within the first five minutes of meeting them. Since you were not short of personality at any point in your life, you’d always say, with a grin, “We know where that one came from.”

When I was around you, I always felt like you loved and believed in me and were proud that I was your granddaughter. Grandpa, you always made me happy, and you always made me smile.

For many years, you had health problems: diabetes, cancer, and heart problems. During the fall of my first year of high school, you had what felt like your 10th heart attack and passed away the Friday after Thanksgiving. I was devastated. Your death was the first time I lost someone close to me. But I pressed on.

For years, you told me the rain was good luck. So, to cope, I looked for rain to stay connected to you – a way to know you were still there. Sure enough, it rained on the day I graduated from high school. On August 15th, 2012, which would have been your 85th birthday, I was offered my first full-time on-air sports anchor/reporter job. It was pouring outside. And more recently, when I met my boyfriend, who treats me so well and makes me laugh, I asked what his name meant. When he said he didn’t know, I looked it up. His name means the God of Rain.

With all my heart, Grandpa, I believe you are watching over me. You know I became a sportscaster, and you love that I started a business that advocates for kindness, courage, and equality. You are so overjoyed about the quality of my new boyfriend’s character, and you think it’s funny how my dog doesn’t let anyone within three feet of me. In fact, I think you may have something to do with that.

So more than telling you that I miss you or even that I love you, what I want you to know is how you made me feel when I was a little girl is how you make me feel now.

Thank you for still making me smile. Thank you for still making me happy.

Love your little athlete,

Dear Mom, Here is what makes our relationship special.

I am not the only person in the world who thinks they have the world’s greatest mom. But I am the only one who is right. There are so many reasons why you are a great mom. Growing up, you showed up at every dance recital, soccer game, graduation, and field trip. You did my hair as a little girl, even though you had to chase me around the house with a brush and a bow in hand for 20 minutes to do so. You took me to The Plaza for tea time and to restaurants in the city for lunch dates. And you have supported every dream I have ever had. While I cherish all those moments and memories, what really makes you the best mom is that you have never let me cry alone.

In my worst moments, Mom, you have always been there to listen to, encourage, and give me advice. As a little girl, when I was upset about school or a boy and couldn’t sleep, you would sit in my bed and talk to me until I felt better. To this day, when I am sad or stressed or just need a friend, you are my first phone call. From my first breakup to my assault to the passing of my ex-boyfriend, you have held my hand, wiped my tears and. And somehow, you always make me feel better.

Your warmth, consistency, and wisdom make you a cut above the rest. And as a result, I move through life feeling very loved. You make hard times more bearable and good times more meaningful.

I am so lucky to have you, the best mom in the world.

I love you with all my heart,

Your daughter,

Hollie,
I know I’ve said this one before, but it is Mother’s Day weekend. So, I figured I’ll say it again.
Sunday marks Mother’s Day. Without mothers, none of us would even be here. Most of us only have one mom. If we’re lucky, we come across women who become a person’s second mom.
You’re my second mom. We’ve rooted each other on and prayed for one another when we needed it.
Thank you for always being in my corner.

When I moved here, I didn’t know myself. I certainly didn’t love myself. I don’t like to think that it took losing you for those things to happen, but I know that for a long, long time, you were my only trans friend— or you and your husband were, until you both died, the same night, in one another’s arms, nine years ago. I know that when you died my own trans baby was only five and still becoming an idea of a person. I wasn’t ready to face my grief over you or any grief over the trauma of my past. I felt like motherhood was the only way I could survive being trans and alone in the world. And then, their little hand tendrilled into mine like a vine and they came out when they were seven. When I fought for resources for them, I found a way to get a little of what I needed, too. Mateo, my friend, my confidante, my comrade, my dreamer, my laughter, my spark, I feel like you would understand these dark times we are facing right now and how much I miss you. You gave me permission to find warmth in the sunshine, roots in the earth, solace in the water, and breath in the air. I took this winter to grieve you and your husband, and so many other people and moments I have lost. I am planning now on how to take the rest of my life to thrive. I feel at peace in this way, this moment before the bloom. I feel so much gratitude for how your life gave me life, always. You did not fight for any of us in vain. I still wear gold shoes and black eyeliner, for you. Always love, always the trans flag and the chin up. We do not have the luxury of shame. I believe in us.

Dear Ralph,

You don’t know me, but I hope that you will get some comfort and love from a stranger with these kind words. Too often we ask children to carry too much, things that they shouldn’t have to carry. Then we facetiously shove the badge of “resilient” onto their lapel. While you most definitely are resilient, you shouldn’t have to be, and your strength came from responding to a stolen innocence at a heavy cost. I see the news stating that you are a wonderful child, an exceptional musician, and a caring brother. And while these qualities are very important to who you are- they don’t speak to you as a human being that didn’t deserve this. What happened to you was wrong on every level and our community should not be making excuses but should be comforting and holding you with our love and sitting with you through your journey to healing.

My heart cries out for you and your family and I hope you understand that you are not at all responsible for any of this. I hope you continue on with your passions and goals. I hope you don’t allow the evil of others to poison your soul with jadedness. And above all else, I hope you live fearless.

With Love,

Dear Angela, Mollie, and Mary Beth:
I’m so glad that we’re all friends with each other after all these years. While our paths crossed at different times when I was at YSU, I’m glad I got to know you just the same.

Angela, you were my co-worker in the Office of Marketing and Communications. We’d talk about this and that pretty much every day. You made me realize that I wasn’t too hip for the room when I was at YSU. You are, and always will be, awesome.

Mollie, you’ve always been most cordial to me. When I found out that you were going to be part of the Youngstown Press Club, my first thought was “Let’s go! I want in!” It was the best decision I’ve ever made.

Mary Beth (MB), what can I say about you that hasn’t already been said by me and your other students? Simply put: You are the best professor any YSU alum could ever had.

Lastly, I consider all three of you as my honorary moms. I love you all very much.

Dear Erin,

I remember the beginning of freshman year of college being worried about if I would be able to make friends as good as the ones I had at home. My naturally shy self wanted a place to fit in and longed for friendships that would be lifelong. Though my floor and I bonded well, I didn’t always feel like I fit in or that my friendships were as deep as I wanted them to be. That is until I met you. We bonded well. Our friendship continued through sophomore year. At the end of my sophomore year I knew I wanted to room with someone different, but didn’t know exactly who. One of my “friends” suggested that we room together. That was probably the nicest thing he ever said and did for me. I asked you if you wanted to room with me and was delighted when you said yes. Little did I know that rooming with you would lead to a lifelong friendship, lots of laughter, and a feeling of family.

We are so different. You are outgoing and extroverted. You start up a conversation with waitresses/waiters, cashiers, and random strangers on the street. You always have the cashier ring up your groceries so you can interact with them, while I rely mostly on self-checkout. I love to joke that you are my emotional support extrovert, as I am shy and like to keep to myself. You are a night owl and I am a morning person. You are from the city and I live in the middle of nowhere. We complement each other very well. What I admire most about you is your confidence, your strength and your ability to overcome adversity. Though you’ve been put through the ringer many times with school and health issues but you always bounce back. People may misunderstand your beautiful heart but it hasn’t seemed to dim the love you have for yourself (and I mean this in the best of ways). We’ve spent many a night laughing together, crying together, had epic photo shoots together and stayed up late talking about the men we like, and the boys we can’t stand. Ours is more than a friendship. It’s a sisterhood. I know that no matter what you’ve always got my back, and I hope you know I’ve always got yours.

You have a zeal for life that is unmatched. You make even the most mundane things fun. You don’t hold back or hide. In a world where people try to be anyone but themselves, you stand out for being authentically yourself. You radiate with joy and uniqueness and it is beautiful to see. You encourage, inspire, and provide a place for me to be my authentic self and I can’t thank you enough for that. I love you girlie and I can’t wait to see what memories we create this summer.

You are one of my best friends and I have no doubt that you will one day be my bridesmaid.

With love & admiration,

In the mid-15th century, you invented the printing press, thereby beginning the spread of the written word across Europe and eventually around the world. As a person who makes his living on the written word, I along with the rest of the writers the world over, want to thank you.

In modern times, we have social networks on the Internet, enabling us to communicate with our friends and family instantly, even if they live halfway across the world.

Everything has to start somewhere. For the spread of the written word, the starting place was the printing press. Technological advancements have enabled people to read books electronically.

If you were alive today, you’d be amazed at how far the written word has come. Thanks for all you’ve done.

Dear Dad,

I can’t remember the exact day or even the precise year that this memory took place. At the time, I was working for MSG Varsity, a high school sports network in the New York metropolitan area. I was probably about two years out of college and maybe 23 or 24 years old. That job was a breakthrough. It was my first steady on-air job. Before getting an offer to work for MSG, I must have been rejected by 100 stations. I was pursuing what many thought to be an impossible career as a TV sports reporter. So many naysayers told me I was wasting my time and my education. But not you, Dad. You told me never to give up on a dream. You told me you believed in me and tried to provide any resources possible to help me succeed.

That’s why this moment, which I am about to share, meant so much to me.

See on this day, I walked into work and everybody was buzzing about Emmy nominations. I was a young reporter in the number one market in the country, so my expectations were low. Then, just as I was about to start writing a script, one of my coworkers told me to check the Emmy nominations. They said they were almost sure they saw my name listed. I don’t remember if I read a hard copy or if I looked at the nominations on my computer or someone else’s computer, but I got a hold of the list, and sure enough, my name was printed twice. In my first year as a reporter, I received two Emmy nominations in the number one market in the country. Before saying anything to anyone, I went into the stairwell and started to cry as I called you to tell you the news.

That’s the moment that is etched in my memory forever. That’s the moment I will never forget. I remember how I felt overwhelmed with emotion and how I could barely even get the words out to tell you. I remember how happy you were to hear the news and how you told me to stop crying.

It wasn’t so much the recognition from the industry or that I got to go to the ceremony and wear a pretty dress that made that moment so special. Don’t get me wrong. All that was great too. But at that moment, I felt I had proved that your unwavering support and belief in me were worthwhile. That you didn’t waste your time or money investing in my dreams.

A decade and change later, I have yet to win an Emmy, even though I was nominated five more times after that. But that moment in the stairwell means more to me than any trophy. That five-minute phone call celebrating with you and hearing the pride in your voice were and are the only prizes that ever mattered to me.

I love you, Daddy. Thank you for always believing in me.