My Letters to You

Messages to my brother and father

Not a Fan of My Brother’s Friends

Not a big fan of people normally. I’d be happy with never talking to most people again. This includes 98% of his friends. There are some of his friends that I’ve known for so long I wouldn’t cut them out. Like his best friend since the second grade. I practically grew up with him. And there are a few we both went to school with and know. I’d continue talking to them.

The rest…. I could live without. If I never spoke to or was contacted by them ever again, I’d be completely fine with it. Mom wouldn’t be and wants to keep them in her life. “Cause David would’ve wanted that.”

I honestly don’t think he’d care. Most of them have lied to us by now or gone back on their promises of helping us out. They cared for a few weeks. Now that everything is said and done, they couldn’t care less.

I’m just not a people person. They sure didn’t help with that.


Those Aren’t Tights

On Easter, I simply wore shorts covered in dried paint from when I painted my room several years ago and a plain T-shirt. Normally I’d dress up a little bit. I normally do for the holidays. They’re special occasions I like to look nice for. Not so much now. They no longer have that meaning to me. I’ve said it multiple times already, I don’t want to celebrate holidays anymore. They’re not the same and they never will be. I want to treat them like just any other days. Nothing special anymore.

Getting back on track, I am an incredibly pale human. Casper the friendly ghost is darker than me. They don’t even make makeup pale enough for me (that I have managed to find at least). So needless to say, my legs are just as blindly pale and white.

One of my aunts commented on how smooth my legs looked. Since they were freshly shaven they should be fairly smooth. But it made me remember when I wore a skirt a few years ago.

I walked outside on one of my days off to talk to my dad who was sitting in his beloved car/truck/SUV at the time.

He squinted at the sight of me. “Are you wearing tights?”

Confused I looked down. Had I forgotten that I had put on tights? “What?”

“Are you wearing tights? Where were you able to find tights that were so white?”

“I’m not wearing tights dad.”

“Oh my god. Those are your legs? You’re that pale? Get some sun!”

I’ll never know why he was so amazed I, his flesh and blood, was so extremely pale. I spend most of my time indoors since most time outside causes me to burn bright red like a lobster. He hated that about me. That I couldn’t make friends let alone any that wanted to spend any length of time with me.


When my grandfather passed on 12/12/13, we all (about 14 of us, the whole extended family on my mother’s side) went back to my grandmother’s house after the wake and funeral. We had dinner and reminisced about the good time with gramps. It was my mother’s father. By then both my father’s parents had already passed.

So when my brother passed away we decided to do the same thing. His services were also on the 3 year anniversary for my grandfather. We all once again went to my grandmother’s place.

Our limo driver got us lost twice in the cemetery and then once on the actual road. It turned out that that was his first day on the job. By the time my parents, sister in law, and I arrived most of the people were leaving. It took us an extra 20 minutes to get there. I know people have lives to get back to but I was so…. disappointed to not remember my brother like we planned on.

Well when we got the news for dad, I said I didn’t want to do it for him. My mom was asked by my aunt a few days later if we were going to do anything after the funeral. Mom said she’d ask me about it and was very upset when I gave a hard no.

“We did it for your brother, we should do the same for your father,” my mother sobbed, choking on tears.

I asked,  “Why are you so hell bent on having one for dad?”

“Because it’s not fair to do it for one and not the other. I feel like we’re not giving him the same respect. It seems like we don’t love him as much.”

Bitterness. That was all I could feel right then.

“You know no one is going to stay for very long. They stayed 20 – 30 minutes last time. They won’t stay much longer this time. And you know what isn’t fair? Seeing everyone with their whole, intact families. Our was already incomplete. It’s been broken twice now, within a four month span. No one else is suffering like we are. No one else there will be down two people, half of what they were. I don’t want to be reminded of what I no longer have. What I can no longer get back.”

Most days I end up grinding my teeth when people talk about having “the best big brother in the world”, “I don’t know where I’d be without my brother”, or “your brother is your best friend for life”. The same bitter, saltiness comes when things about world’s greatest dads come up too. It’s no one’s fault but I can’t help it.


First holiday without the two most important men in my life. I didn’t want to do anything today. Just wanted to treat it like a normal Sunday. Easter is one of those holidays that has no specific date. It makes it easier to forget and not be bothered by it. During the holidays I should just stay off social media since it’s just post after post of said holiday.

Mom is making me go to a brunch with her side of the family. The only side we tend to deal with. She wants me to go since no one has seen me since dad’s funeral. There’s a reason for that. I can’t see anyone with the hours I work and I’ve purposely been avoiding them.

I’ll put on a happy face for mom’s sake.


The Earliest Memory of my Father

The farthest back I can remember of my father is around the age of 5. My mother, brother, and I were coming back home from something. My brother was the first back into the apartment and stopped dead in his tracks. I followed and saw a strange man sitting on the other side of the living room. One of his legs was in a cast.

You’d think when my brother shouted “Dad!” it would’ve filled me in on who he was.


My five year old brain couldn’t remember seeing this man before. All I remembered was my brother and mother. No one else in my life. I stayed where I was and asked “Who are you?”

“It’s dad.” My brother answered while giving my dad a bear hug.

“Really?” I still didn’t seem sure of this man.

My dad grinned. “Really.”

After that I followed my brother’s lead and bolted over to him.

Mom finally came in. “What are you doing here?”

The thing that we were told back then is that my father was a truck driver who had fallen on some black ice. He messed up his ankle in a few places and was sent back home. Being gullible 5 and 6 year old we believed it. When my brother got older he looked into dads past a little more. I didn’t. I actually forgot all about the story.

Can’t remember the actual story but he was in jail at that time and broke his ankle. I remember him telling me a few years ago that he was going to sue them because of how he broke his ankle but couldn’t because he refused to be looked at by their doctors. Something like that.

Growing up with him, he was always getting in trouble so I can believe he did jail time. He’s got a whole… past that I’m curious about but don’t think I want to bother looking into.

Four Months

When I wrote this one I didn’t expect to be down another family member. Dad missed you so much though. He wasn’t doing well down here. One of the last conversations you and I had was how much longer we thought dad had. It was that he wasn’t going to survive 2017. We were right about that. I wish we weren’t after you left.


First Day Back to Work

I was okay to go back to work about a week after Dave. I mean it sucked to have all my coworkers look at me with pity and sadness. To be reminded for several days just how sorry everyone was for my loss. But I still held it together. Granted I would secretly disappear into the bathroom to hyperventilate and cry, but I was able to hold it together for everyone to see.

My first day back was a disaster. Everyone looked at me in an awkward silence, the pity and sadness much worse than the first time. I had barely slept. Thinking I was feeling better, I never called out. The sick to my stomach feeling returned when I woke up to get ready to go. With barely any sleep, being ill for days, and a broken heart I was overwhelmed.

The whole way to work I cried. Two weeks prior my father had driven me to work since there was a blizzard on the way and he had a 4 wheel drive vehicle. That was all I could think of. I’m lucky I didn’t run into any cops. The tears were blurring my vision and I was speeding like a bat out of hell.

My manager gave me a hug when she first saw me and said I looked ill. I didn’t feel like talking so everyone just left me alone after that. When I went to take my coworker off, the first words out of his mouth were “I’m sorry about your father.” The water works started up all over again.

I made it a whole hour of stomach pains and panic attacks before my manager sent me home. She was surprised I had even bothered coming back so soon. I thought 10 days off would be enough. It was enough for my brother, so why wasn’t it enough for dad?

That whole day and yesterday I continued to have panic attacks. I was still ill. Every little thing began to make me cry. My mother talked me into calling in again last night. I was in no state of mind to return to work again.

Tonight I plan to try again. I need some sort of normalcy back into my life. Staying home just makes me miss my father and brother so much more.


For the last several minutes I’ve just been staring at a blank screen. I have no words to type. I can’t figure out how to describe my feelings right now. I can’t figure out how to put my feelings into words to understand.

I was finally thinking we could pick up the pieces after losing my brother. It felt possible. Things could get better. We could feel sort of normal again.

But that was not meant to be. I mean I thought I was already at rock bottom. I didn’t think I could get lower than that. It’s possible. This week has been a whirlwind. These last 4 months have been a whirlwind. No one expected to have to do another funeral for my family. Even my job doesn’t know how to react to this.

With my brother there wasn’t much to take care of. There’s much more to take care of with my father. Him and my mother have been separated for years. Sure they are technically married but they haven’t lived together for years. He moved out about 5 or 6 years ago on my mother’s birthday. So we had a whole house to pack up and his landlady said “Not to be a cold hearted bitch but I need his things out ASAP so someone else can move in and pay me.” Which to me sounds very cold hearted.

Now we had to scramble to figure out where to put a house full of things in a short time span. His friend that found him ended up stealing his phone and wallet so we don’t even have that anymore. She did return the phone but not the wallet after changing her story several times.

All of this has just piled on top of me and I’ve been stuck in my bed, sick to my stomach for the last several days.

People keep telling me to take it a day at a time. They’ve been telling me since December. But I’ve noticed it comes from people who haven’t suffered such a loss like this. People who still have intact families. Sure, I knew my family wasn’t perfect. We fought and bickered. But this pain… you can’t understand until it happens.

Where do we go from here?

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