Dear Granna,
Yesterday was the 8th Anniversary of Dick's death. The whole day I had been feeling rather blue and crying for no reason, and only when Mom told me what day it was did my mood all of the sudden make sense. I decided to help deal with the grieving process I would write him a letter as well:
Dear Dick,
Eight years. I can't believe that so much time has passed since you last were with us. One would think after all of this time the wound would close and we wouldn't feel the guilt or the loss, but can you ever really forget the people that so dramatically change your life? For the past eight years I have lived with the guilt of how I treated you while you were alive, and in a sense it makes me feel as if I contributed to your death. If I only had been nicer, if I hadn't always caused you so much anger and pain, would you still be with us? I have been told that I need to forgive myself. At that age, it isn't uncommon for teenagers to be in a whirlwind of emotions like I was all the time. But I should have known better. I feel like I should have been more of an adult and maybe things would have been different.
You always taught me to work hard and to shoot for the stars. I wanted to be a cardiologist so that I could figure out a way to fix your heart condition. You helped me get into the most prestigious pre-med program in San Diego, and paid the $16,000 tuition for the first semester without question. You read my book and commented on it, and said I should do what makes me happy and that I had talent. You knew that I was destined for great things, and that changed me in so many ways, when no one else believed in me, you did and taught me to believe in myself. At the time it seems like I wasn't very thankful to you. I took your generosity without any hesitation and took advantage of that. You did so much without ever questioning the what, where or why, because, no matter how much I denied it, you loved us. You loved me.
Have I become the person you had always hoped I would become? I don't know. Right now I am so lost, but finding my way seems easier knowing that maybe now I can let that wound heal and forgive myself for all of the wrongs I did to you. I have to forgive myself, the weight of my youth bears down on me so much I can't breathe. But what does it solve? You can't change the past. You can only use those lessons and move forward. Regardless of everything that happened, everything I did, everything happened for a reason, and maybe you never blamed me for everything. So it is time to stop blaming myself.
You are missed. You were loved, and still are. Without you I wouldn't have had the guidance I needed to grow into a strong woman who takes life by the horns and accomplishes her goal. Thank you, for everything you did and continue to do. Your lessons were not ignored, your words not forgotten and the love will never be denied.
Yours,
~K
I just need some closure after all these years. Maybe this will help me heal.
~Kim
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Dear Granna,
Since my last letter things have gotten slightly better. When you are at rock bottom, the only place you can go is up, right? I finally started getting calls back last week, and on Thursday I interviewed for a receptionist position in Del Mar. The pay is not what I am worth, and there are no benefits at this job, but any income is a good income at this point. So, when they offered it to me, I took it. Unfortunately I am highly overqualified and desire more stimulating work, so I am constantly looking for new opportunities. The only problem is I don't know what direction I want my career to go. Law school is out of the question. I can't work in an industry with so many corrupt people. I would get fired too often for trying to do the right thing. Nursing is appealing, but I have this thing about seeing people in pain. I just don't know what I want to do anymore. I suppose I can just pick up any job that makes money and keep writing, but when your muse is on vacation again, it is difficult.
Beyond that... my heart is doing what it always does, aching. Living with a broken heart is something that you never quite get adjusted to. It is either distance, or rejection, or being used... Whatever the case, my heart is always in pieces. Someday I hope to put them all back together. Someday I hope things work out for me. Maybe that is my problem. I hold onto the little bits of hope and end up being disappointed in the end. I've been trying to embrace the day-by-day thing, but sometimes you just want to hope for a future. I just have these extreme ups and downs where I am sick to my stomach and giddy, or sick to my stomach and on the verge of tears. Why do people have to toy with your emotions where one day you feel like they are the center of their universe, and the next...you are nothing but a filthy whore to them... It is frustrating. Do all these games and dancing around really prove anything? Do we have to constantly test one another like this to see if our intentions are good? Why can't people just see that I have a good heart and I love completely, there are no games. I'm not out to hurt anyone.
Have an interview on Saturday with a bigger company that offers benefits and hopefully competitive pay. At this point it is just to pay my bills. But being able to go to the doctor if I get sick or something would be a huge plus. Oh, and being able to keep on the birth control so my random adventures will not have any horrible consequences... My mind was plagued with the most random dream last night. I was pregnant. It was his. It was very close to my delivery date, so I was setting up an appointment at the hospital to be induced. I was ready to do it all on my own. Ready to raise my baby as a single mother and never have to be around him...and he found me. With tears in his eyes he told me he would be there for me. He wanted to be in the delivery room when our child was born. And when it came down to it... while I was laying in the bed hooked up to all the monitors, my swollen belly exposed for all the world to see...he was not there. Funny how our subconscious works. My strange doubt that if I ever did need him to be there for me, he wouldn't be. I guess that is just from experience and we go with what we know.
I just wish that when I close the door he wouldn't kick it down and wrap me in his arms and make me feel safe. It's like when he knows he is losing me, he has to grab onto me. I just lack the strength to walk away. And I don't know why. I guess it always goes back to wanting what you can't have. And it is even more difficult for me because I am friends with his friends...his family knows and adores me...and when I lay awake in his bed watching him sleep, he always has to be touching me. He'll reach out and pull me closer if I'm not there. What is his subconscious telling him?
I'm tired of guessing.
Kim
Since my last letter things have gotten slightly better. When you are at rock bottom, the only place you can go is up, right? I finally started getting calls back last week, and on Thursday I interviewed for a receptionist position in Del Mar. The pay is not what I am worth, and there are no benefits at this job, but any income is a good income at this point. So, when they offered it to me, I took it. Unfortunately I am highly overqualified and desire more stimulating work, so I am constantly looking for new opportunities. The only problem is I don't know what direction I want my career to go. Law school is out of the question. I can't work in an industry with so many corrupt people. I would get fired too often for trying to do the right thing. Nursing is appealing, but I have this thing about seeing people in pain. I just don't know what I want to do anymore. I suppose I can just pick up any job that makes money and keep writing, but when your muse is on vacation again, it is difficult.
Beyond that... my heart is doing what it always does, aching. Living with a broken heart is something that you never quite get adjusted to. It is either distance, or rejection, or being used... Whatever the case, my heart is always in pieces. Someday I hope to put them all back together. Someday I hope things work out for me. Maybe that is my problem. I hold onto the little bits of hope and end up being disappointed in the end. I've been trying to embrace the day-by-day thing, but sometimes you just want to hope for a future. I just have these extreme ups and downs where I am sick to my stomach and giddy, or sick to my stomach and on the verge of tears. Why do people have to toy with your emotions where one day you feel like they are the center of their universe, and the next...you are nothing but a filthy whore to them... It is frustrating. Do all these games and dancing around really prove anything? Do we have to constantly test one another like this to see if our intentions are good? Why can't people just see that I have a good heart and I love completely, there are no games. I'm not out to hurt anyone.
Have an interview on Saturday with a bigger company that offers benefits and hopefully competitive pay. At this point it is just to pay my bills. But being able to go to the doctor if I get sick or something would be a huge plus. Oh, and being able to keep on the birth control so my random adventures will not have any horrible consequences... My mind was plagued with the most random dream last night. I was pregnant. It was his. It was very close to my delivery date, so I was setting up an appointment at the hospital to be induced. I was ready to do it all on my own. Ready to raise my baby as a single mother and never have to be around him...and he found me. With tears in his eyes he told me he would be there for me. He wanted to be in the delivery room when our child was born. And when it came down to it... while I was laying in the bed hooked up to all the monitors, my swollen belly exposed for all the world to see...he was not there. Funny how our subconscious works. My strange doubt that if I ever did need him to be there for me, he wouldn't be. I guess that is just from experience and we go with what we know.
I just wish that when I close the door he wouldn't kick it down and wrap me in his arms and make me feel safe. It's like when he knows he is losing me, he has to grab onto me. I just lack the strength to walk away. And I don't know why. I guess it always goes back to wanting what you can't have. And it is even more difficult for me because I am friends with his friends...his family knows and adores me...and when I lay awake in his bed watching him sleep, he always has to be touching me. He'll reach out and pull me closer if I'm not there. What is his subconscious telling him?
I'm tired of guessing.
Kim
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