Letter to a Deceased Person You Wish You Could Talk To

Dear Aunt Judy,

Its been five long years since you passed, but for a while, every day that went by seemed like a year in itself, so it seems like its been a lot longer.

So much has happened since you’ve been gone – some bad, but mostly good – and while I’d kill for the opportunity to sit down with you and talk all about it, I know you’re aware. You’ve been right by my side all this time. I can actually feel you sometimes. I even think I hear your laugh in the distance, every now and then, when Im in a crowd of people. I pause, I smile, and I move along.

You know, I stopped my trips to the city after you died. With all the friends and other family I had there, there still didn’t seem to be anything left for me to go back for. Strangely enough though, four years later, I’ve MOVED down here LOL. Whodathunkit? I remember telling you I would never do it, but here I am. Well, officially, I live in Jersey, but its all the same. Still haven’t made my way over to the old block yet, but the weather has broken now and the kids are curious, so its on my list of things to do very soon.

I remember flying in on Thursday nights – it was always a Thursday night – and even though I normally stayed with Randy, who had the space, I would spend most of my time with you, down in 1J, hanging out and watching Law and Order, listening to Heather Headley. I cant even hear one of her songs now – doesn’t matter which one – without thinking of you. You always had some new, crazy drink you thought you had invented too, and I never had the heart to tell you that whatever it was this time, I had been drinking it for years LOL. I would just laugh and say “oooh, that’s good!” LOL You loved the smell and taste of my black and mild cigars, but you never bought your own LOL. You just waited til I was in town, to smoke them with me. I remember days sitting outside on your front stoop, watching you drag up the street, from work. You always smiled when you saw me, and called me “homegirl” LOL and you never let me go home without a big breakfast that morning; salmon croquets, turkey sausage, eggs, grits, toast….. you did it up!

Im not sad anymore when I think of you. Your absence has somehow sharpened the images in my head, of the times we shared. At times, its like I can smell the incense and taste the grits. I can hear the doorbell, see the brown linoleum pattern on the foyer/dining room floor, and the emerald green carpet in the living room. It’s all so vivid. I have nothing but happy memories of you, and although I know you are watching from your heavenly perch, I’d give anything for the chance to sit with you, just one more time…. Heather Headley in the background, blacks in hand, concoction at the ready….. chopping it up like we used to do, about life, men, family, and whatever else happened to be on the table that day, knowing the cancer doesn’t hurt anymore. Maybe this time, I could make YOU breakfast before you go. I know they probably make a banging salmon croquet up in heaven, but I’d do my best. And I'd send a plate back with you for Michael, to apologize for not choosing him as the recipient of this letter, but you know.... I think he'd understand.