My Dearest Fassia,
I sit here tonight reflecting on tomorrow. 14 years since you died. Seems like yesterday in some ways. Seems like 14 years ago in others. I still cry a lot about you and just the situation as a whole. So many silly things that I wish could have been different. Of course, that is impossible, so crazy that I dwell on it so much. But, I feel if I move on from those things, then I move on from you kind of. Which, yes I know, you’d say do! I have and I am still working on moving on more. Each day is progress… but sometimes only because it is one more day since that awful day.
What gets me the most as of today. You didn’t meet your grand kiddos. And they are all amazing. Mine has your infectious laugh! I don’t feel I got to properly say goodbye. I don’t remember a lot of your funeral because of my pain medications. We didn’t get to go through your stuff. We didn’t get to spread your ashes. We don’t get to go visit your last house anymore. You aren’t here to give us advice, or tell us to get our heads out of our ass, or build us up, or laugh with us. Or tell us to not let the bastards get us down. Kesha made a song about that actually- I think about you all the time. I think she stole your phrase! It’s my pep talk song some mornings.
I hate that the further we get away, the less I can hear your voice and laugh. The less I can smell you (including your socks and pits that you always had to “show off”)! The less I know what you’d say to me.
I have found mini traditions to keep you alive in my heart and my spirit. And like I said before, my daughter has your laugh. and my wild spirit and adventurous soul… which partly comes from you.
One big thing I wish I could talk to you about is parenting. I feel like you and I are similar here… maybe. Like we’d have similar struggles and joys about being a parent. My MOST recent struggle… parent guilt… questioning thing (because I have them all the time) is regarding my daughter wanting to wrestle. YES I said wrestle. Who knew that would be an interest of hers. Of course, I wanted her to do it if she really wanted to. But, I also didn’t want to do it because it is three to four days a week and I know she would not handle that well. She gets overstimulated quite easily. I decided to be up front with her and just tell her all the details so she could make an informed decision. I even showed her videos. We went a couple days of her being adamant about wrestling. Yes she knows mostly boys do it. YES she knows she gets to wear a singlet (her favorite part- it’s like gymnastics leotards). Yes she would shower after every practice and meet. Yes she could do four days a week. Yes it would be OK to not do swim lessons. Yes it would be OK to eat healthier and work out. I was basically like, shit, we are doing this. I spent a night prepping myself to be a wrestling parent. I was a wrestling girlfriend so I knew what I was prepping for! The day before first practice, we talked about it and I showed her a singlet and head gear that she’d need. She looked at me with wide eyes. Then rolled her eyes. Then said… you never told me about head gear. I don’t want to do it. SIMPLE AS THAT! I joked and said I should have started with that! So now we are settled on not wrestling. I ask her questions to guarantee she is sure. She is. She does not want to wear head gear. I had a moment of triumph! THEN came the next level of guilt. Guilt that I had talked her out of it! Who am I to know that she wouldn’t be able to handle it, or that she wound’t be a beast doing it, or that she wouldn’t love it?! Fuck. First guilt that I was trying to talk her out of it, then guilt for talking her out of it! #winning. Or not. #momfail. On one level or another.
Tonight we are waiting for a report from a friend who went to first practice. To see if they are going to do it and see if we should try one more time to ask if she wants to do it.
I know there is always next year.
I thought about what I write to you and it is always sad or depressing or down on myself. I was going to try and do better. But maybe that’ll start tomorrow. I saw a sign on Jan 2 that said Jan wasn’t my month- I’ll try again in Feb! ha! Wellll… that is tomorrow. So maybe I try and be nicer to myself.
I’ll end this with saying that I miss you terribly. I can’t even write in the right words to describe the pain and hole I feel. I’ll also end this with something good about myself. Even with all the mom guilt- I know I am raising a good kid. She is kind and funny and smart and spirited and passionate and definitely makes this world a better place. I am proud of her and I know you would be too.
Goodnight. Until next time.
With All The Love That I Possess,
Your Daughter
Letters to Fassia 