An Open Letter to SJV

I wrote this in 2020, when the idea of turning 30 without you in the world felt raw. We’ve all turned 31 now. Despite you being the youngest in the year, you would also be the same age as well.

The world rolls forward everyday, creating more days behind than some of us have in front. The older I become the more death feels a part of life but I can’t say that makes it any easier. If anything, every new loss stirs up old feelings and feels like sipping on a cool refreshing pint of water laced with tiny shards of glass, on a blistering hot summer days.

With that in mind, here’s an open letter to you, written circa August 2020.

An elderly care client I look after kissed me on the cheek a couple of weeks ago and all I could think about was the last time I saw you.

You did the same thing to me; kissed me on the cheek. I think somewhere in your mind you knew it was a goodbye. Maybe five days later, I got the call whilst I was at work and leaning over my monitor faffing about with cables. I said I’d tell the girls. Honestly, I still don’t know what was harder. Breaking their hearts or feeling my own shatter.

I replay the last memory of us together in my head more often than I should. Everyone said their goodbyes, but I hung back. I wanted some time with just the two of us, even if it was only a millisecond. Some peace between all the pain.

I miss you every year, every week, every day but today hits different… we’re in the middle of a global pandemic and in all the madness our 30th birthdays just don’t feel the same. They don’t feel the way I thought they would when we were younger.

I once messaged you to ask why you hadn’t clicked attending to my 22nd birthday. Birthdays have always been my favourite, even the ones hallmark deem as little. You replied it was a given that you’d be there. “It goes without saying” you quipped. I should really have known better.

I re-read it this morning, looking for the perfect photo of us to capture my grief, but I’m running out of favourite photos of us. The one I’ve picked is from my 19th, not the aforementioned birthday, but one that you attended all the same.

The world is so different now. Seven years and so much has changed. Not just globally but locally too. The lives of our old group are no longer entwined around one another like they used to be. Parts that were strong and stable have unravelled. They’ve gone their separate ways. They live separate lives. The parts that gracefully grew close without touching are now one and the same. They’re building lives together, creating futures we never dreamed of.

I don’t see your family as much, but I love them all the same. You have a beautiful niece now and I have no doubt you would have been her favourite person. Uncle Sam. The time we had with you wasn’t enough but it was a happy time, a loving time and for all the days we had you, you were a blazing sun. I am forever thankful that I knew you.

If I could say anything to our past selves at 19, it would be capture more photos, hug more, but above all… keep going as you are. I actually wouldn’t change a single damn thing about the time we had together, except that maybe, just maybe it could last a little longer. I miss you, and it hurts that you’re not here but I have nothing but happiness and warmth in my soul when I think of you.

Stay Beautiful SJ 💚