A Letter To Liz

“The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?” ~Edgar Allan Poe

My Dearest Liz:

This will come as a shock, I’m sure—you know poetry’s not my thing: never has been, never will be—but I don’t need you to explain this one to me.

It means you’ll be with me always. And in all things. In the traditions I continue. In the miles I run. In the food I cook. In the stories I tell. In the love I share.

***

You were fun. So much fun. The simplest things became extraordinary when I got to do them with you. Like shopping for “hot” purses in New York’s Chinatown (okay, you might’ve enjoyed that a little more than I did :)). Or listening to you talk about art during our visit to the MOMA. Or gorging on delicious food at the Grand Hotel’s lunch buffet on Mackinac Island (after I drove us across the Mackinac Bridge because bridge-driving was one of your phobias). Or the way you cleaned my coffee pot with vinegar every chance you got because “Katie, this is disgusting! When’s the last time you washed it?” and vinegar was obviously a fix-all (I’m actually starting to believe it is).

I could go on and on. Forever, really. There are so many great memories. So many I can’t think of right now that I’ll remember later. And when I do, I’ll share them. And I’ll keep sharing them so even though you’re gone, you’ll never be forgotten. (But seriously, who’re we kidding? You’re unforgettable, Liz.)

That’s probably why I see you everywhere at 419 Young Drive. In the kitchen (I still don’t know how all the patterns you chose fit together perfectly, but they do). In each decoration, in every piece of artwork, in all the furniture. You. You. You.

***

I’m thankful I got to know the artist, the musician, the poet, the person—and not just the parent—during the last few years. Because, at the end of the day, every parent is a person first.

You were a terrific parent. Absolutely terrific.

Even when we argued, disagreed, got on one another’s nerves, or annoyed (the shit :)) out of each other, I never doubted that you loved me unconditionally. That you’d do anything, everything, you could for me. And you did. You always did. 

***

I hope you’re chain smoking cigarettes, drinking coffee, painting pictures, and playing the piano. But most of all, I hope you’re at peace. I can’t think of anyone who deserves peace more than you do.

I’ve missed you. I miss you. I will miss you.
I’ve loved you. I love you. I will love you.
Always.