Today, I will give myself the gift of forgetting.
It will be like a waterfall cascading over me, cleansing me, curing me.
It will be like my mother’s arms cradling me, calming me, curing me.
I will cherish and protect it the way I want to be
cherished
and protected.
And when I find myself crying over things I cannot change,
I will remember that today
I gave myself a gift.

Heartfelt Thank you for..
C- Commitment to your purpose
C-Commitment to your faith
C-Commitment to never giving up
Heartfelt thank you for…
H-Honor, keeping self respect
H-Humility to know you have value, without walking on others.
Heartfelt thank you for…
A-Ambition and
A-Aspiring to be better everyday
Heartfelt thank you for…
R-Respect
R-Responsible to care for others.
Heartfelt thank you for…
M-Morals you were taught
M-Me, I am always trying to be, true to be
Heartfelt thank you for…
A-Always being true to self
And what is important to you
Heartfelt thank you for…
I-Interity- Installed and displayed
Heartfelt thank you for…
N-Necessary new beginnings to grow
Heartfelt thanks for…
E-Excellence you apply to everything you do

Heartfelt thanks to you, CHARMAINE!!!

Thank you for being true to yourself and not allowing anyone to push you around anymore. I appreciate your courage in being vulnerable again after experiencing hurt from family, friends, and even a toxic significant other. Thank you for choosing yourself in situations that could jeopardize your mental health once more.

Thank you for accepting your flaws and embracing your unique qualities. You have made the little girl inside you proud today because no one else could ever fully understand what you have gone through.

Thank you for loving your inner beauty and not worrying about what others think. I admire how you hold onto your childhood memories while letting go of the pain associated with who you used to be. Thank you for breaking free from your parents’ control over your life and for recognizing that you are not obligated to maintain relationships with people you don’t get along with, especially your brother.

Thank you for following your heart and pursuing your dreams without letting anyone else ruin them. Life is too short not to be thankful for yourself, so always remember to be grateful.

Waiting
I waited.
I waited for months.
I waited for the return.
I waited for man that left.
I waited for the dream we talked about.
I waited.

You ran.
You ran instantly.
You ran when the first sign was red.
You ran when everything just became too much.
You ran when all I wanted was you to be you.
You ran.

I waited and served us.
You ran and served yourself.
I waited to find out I was right for waiting.
You ran, knowing you were right because I waited.
You and I are not the same.

A special thank you
A sub thanks to my mom as
A consequence of Saibree A.K.A SERMON,

You graciously accept what you need in the moment, knowing it will yield great rewards down the line. Thank you for your commitment to growth – for wanting to be a better writer, acknowledging areas for improvement, and applying feedback to become stronger, recognizing that creativity is an imperfect process.

Thank you for persevering even when you felt like giving up. Thank you for affirming yourself when others denied you. Thank you for refusing to surrender what you created, even when others claimed it as their own. Thank you for pressing on, undeterred by the calls to stop.

Despite the risk of looking foolish, you’re always eager to try new things, driven by the hope of a positive outcome and the affirmation of compliments. You find joy in appreciating the beauty in both men and women, taking delight in the beauty that is reflected back to you.

Dearest Self:

Life has been challenging these past few years, which is undoubtedly an understatement. Despite these challenges, you should be so grateful for your ability to persevere through hardship–something you learned as a child. You should be proud of your wherewithal as you show your resilience through insurmountable pain. Without those character traits, you may not be here today to share your story of what it looks like to survive AGAINST ALL ODDS.  

When the Camp Fire tore through the community of Paradise, California, on November 8, 2018, taking anything and everything in its path, including your home of 30 years, you thought that it would be the worst, most painful experience in your life. As it turned out, you were wrong. 

During the summer of 2021, your family suffered a second catastrophic fire—the Dixie Fire, which consumed your little lake house, as you call it, at Lake Almanor, California. Although you called it your lake house, your cabin was not near the lake, nor was it a traditional house. It was a refurbished mobile home constructed in the 1970s but remodeled into a cute cabin style–all the walls had tongue and groove wood throughout, with cabin-like decor in every room. It was a place where your youngest son and husband retreated after your family home burned to the ground.

Little did you know that one year later, in March of 2022, you would sustain a fall in your classroom that would drastically change your life. Eventually, your beloved teaching job ended because of the injury you suffered in your classroom.
 
Within two years of the Dixie Fire, life continued to be challenging. For some time, you dealt with a nagging cough and the feeling of breathlessness. Do you remember driving down the freeway one day after work, talking with your dearest friend from Paradise? As you spoke, she reminded you that you should see a doctor about your cough. If you were being honest about life, you had put off going to your doctor because of the ongoing chaos and, frankly, depression that you felt. During the summer of 2022, after going through a variety of tests, you were diagnosed with a progressive, irreversible, and terminal disease: Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. 

Do you remember sitting on your patio after your doctor gave you the news? You sat there in shock. You were stunned–at that point, you expressed utter sadness that you would likely die of the same disease your father had died of. At that point in your life, you would never have guessed that a nagging cough would lead you down this path. 

That next year of life, 2023, you had to get used to attending many specialist visits–from appointments with two different pulmonologists, a cardiologist, a neurologist and a Physical Therapist. What seems just insanely unfair and tragic at the same time is that one year after receiving your IPF diagnosis, in October of 2024,  you would receive news of a second terminal illness–Progressive Supranuclear Palsy, which is a rare neurodegenerative brain disease. 

Most people you tell your story to often look at you with sorrow and amazement. They usually say something to the effect that you are a survivor. You’ve frequently shared that you are living because there is no other choice. You have the support of a fantastic husband of 38 years, two adult sons, your sisters, and several lifelong friends. Plus, you have two faithful Akita dogs to live for. You have lost your autonomy these past few years and often depend on your hubby to help you with daily tasks. You walk with a walker now–your brain is a bit slower, as are the words you speak, and your gait is a little bit wonky. Your stamina is much less these days, and you have often complained that you sleep more than you’d like to admit. 

You recently shared that although you’ve lost material possessions and (some of) your independence over the past 6 years, you’ve gained a new perspective-enjoy each day as you live it and love each person like it’s the last day you’ll spend with them. None of us are guaranteed a tomorrow. YOU are an example of a true fighter. As you tell anyone who wants to listen to your story, you will not go down without a fight. You will never allow fires, a severe back injury, or even two terminal illnesses to define who you are. You will continue to fight the battle until there is no fight left in you. You should be PROUD of who you have become. YOU  are a survivor, AGAINST ALL ODDS.

Remember the way you’d fold into corners,
curling like leaves just to feel
the warmth of your own breathing,
the small life you made for yourself in that space—
a fortress of playing records, and studying, and honey lattes
hands reaching for corners to make a home.

That little room, those early hours,
you were everything and everyone to yourself
but in your marrow pulsed a gentler pulse,
one that said, I have always known heartbreak.
It sang in the spaces between your breaths,
beneath your olive skin, under your flecked flesh.

Sometimes I dial your number and can’t speak
because I am here, and you are there,
separated only by years and questions, but sprawled on familiar floors—
playing records, studying, sipping honey lattes,
acquainted by heartbreak.
A little bruised, but softer for it.

There are times I wish we’d live separate lives, ask nothing, and live,
but you fashioned my path, like clay in willing hands.
So, dear self, hold on to that little room—those honey lattes,
the records that spin our stories into the air,
and every loss, a lesson carved in lines of courage—
as we continue through life—steady, hand in hand.

Dear Deaja, people don’t say this to you enough, so I decided to take some time to say it today. Thank you for everything you do for yourself and everyone around you. Girl you are tough, funny, honest and you work your ass off. How any times have stepped in for someone else, without them asking? You never stop doing the right thing, not to mention all the times you stepped up for any member of your family when they needed you the most, your awesome and you better never forget that you are. Even if no one ever tells you this again I’m going to repeat it. Thank you for being your great self and you better never stop.

Dear My Senior Self,

I hope your last year of high school is treating you well. Hopefully biomed is not too troublesome. Science has always been easy for us. Well… most of the time. I’m currently struggling with my chemistry course. College is definitely harder than high school. Ignore what our teachers say, or the idea that it gets easier.

But that is not why I’m writing to you. Last weekend, I saw him. Five months later. Him. The boy. The boy you loved so much. The boy who made you bend down laughing at his antics. The boy you could talk with for hours about life’s greatest questions and never grow tired of it. The boy who towered high above you yet was the gentlest and clumsiest person you knew. The boy you dreamed about, who made you want to show just how much he meant to you. The boy who made your heart skip a beat whenever he smiled. The boy who broke that same heart without even knowing it, over and over again. The boy you cried for. The boy you still pray for.

Thank you for loving the boy who struggled with his own demons and trusted you enough to reveal them. Thank you for patiently listening to him vent to you about the girl he never fell out of love with, oblivious to how you were absolutely dying inside with feelings you knew could never be uttered out loud. Thank you for being a good friend who remembered his birthday, even though he forgot about yours. Thank you for loving the boy who never loved you back, nor really cared about you.

You might be wondering why I do not hate you for loving that boy. Questioning why I do not resent you for losing yourself and your peace to him, only for him to willfully dismiss it or be blissfully ignorant of the pain he caused. Instead, I express my utmost gratitude. Because you loved that boy so much- you learned the cruel, cold truth at the pinnacle age of 17. You learned that falling in love with somebody, only for it to be torturous and heartbreaking the entire ride, is the only way to truly learn how to love and defend yourself.

I owe it to you, my senior self. I am no longer afraid to acknowledge a lost cause and walk away. I no longer fear the what ifs that held me back before, the things that stopped me from leaving a situation that only harms me. I have the courage to stand up and fight for myself. Because of you, I stood up to him and expressed the bottled-up pain and turmoil he brought to our “friendship.” Even that was painful, as I was forced to put my secret feelings aside to prioritize my dignity for once. Thanks to you, I will never look back and become Lot’s wife.

I ran into that boy last weekend, five months after I graduated and moved on to bigger and better things. I still thought about him. Every time I hear the Backseat Lovers, I think of him. When I saw him, the tiny sliver of me that still cares was disappointed that he seems the same… since I have changed so much in so little time. I wonder if he noticed any subtle differences in me. Whether I seem more confident and self-assured, more independent. No… probably not. Nor will he ever know about the old wounds and unspoken words towards him that I will take with me to the grave. Nor the book I started writing, nor the incredible people I have met, nor the adventures that come with starting a new chapter in my life: college.

My dear senior self… Thank you for helping me see reality and teaching me to accept it. The cold, disappointing reality that the boy you loved, the one who listened to you passionately rant about your dream to become a veterinarian someday… forgot what college you are attending. And deep down, you know he also forgot the words he said to you that December night, in the church kitchen. When he said he could see the excitement in your eyes when you talked about your future.

So… Thank you. Thank you for choosing to love the boy who only hurt you. For showing me the consequences of being blinded by love, so I will never experience them again. For showing me at such an early age when to move on and walk away without regrets. For teaching me to accept reality so my heart can no longer be hurt. Thank you for loving that boy. The boy who rewired our heart.

With Love from the Future,
Elena Mendonsa

Once a girl was given a smile
The girl loved her smile
she took it with her everywhere
shared it with everyone who looked her way
she even tucked it in with her at night.
She shared it with her mother when she found her crying
With her friends who stayed at school longer then they should have
The hungry dog she finds in the ally
The scary man who stares at her a bit too long
The cat lady across the street
Her brothers with their broken in shoes
The man on the sidewalk holding a sign
Her Barbies and teddy bears
She loved her smile so much she learned how to smile not with just her Lips but her eyes and voice too.
She smiled with her voice when her father called from “camp” where’d he’d been for some time
She smiled at her bullies when they pushed her down because she knew they didn’t mean it, they were just upset they didn’t have a smile of their own, but that was okay she would just share hers.
She turned her smile into a party trick that she saved for when the room got too loud .
At some point she understood that some people would make the room loud just to see it, but that was okay because it just meant they also didn’t have a smile of their own and she was happy to share.
Soon this young girl becomes a woman and learns that her smile no longer is a gift but a weapon
She uses her smile to defend herself against all the scary things that come her way
When her father never comes home from the hospital
When she learns that alcohol has long term side effects
When the love of her life says it’s not me it’s you
When her test comes back positive
When she gets fired from the high paying job
When no one shows up to her graduation
When she finds out the hero and the nice guy are not always the same person
When she’s referred to as strong and resilient before she understands why
When she doesn’t recognize the crying girl in her reflection
The woman In her starts to think perhaps the smile was never a gift or a weapon or a party trick but a burden that just always felt to heavy to put down
So she tries but her smile remains plastered to her face even when her eyes and voice gave up trying a long time ago .
She tries to set it down only to find
another broken stranger looking for a light,
a light that she knows only her smile can give. So again she shares her crooked smile for no other reason than knowing that a stranger needed a smile and she had one to share.
However this time the stranger smiled back to her she dropped to her knees crying ,
in all the years of sharing her smile this was the first time someone smiled back at her and she was reminded
the gift was never her smile but being someone who was capable of smiling
So the woman rose from her knees and held her head up high and proudly flaunted her smile as she praised the heavens for having a smile to share.