Please forgive me for the futuristic conceit I have employed. I promise there is a reason that will be explained.

December 27, 2015

Dear Quisha,

It’s been a while since we last spoke. I promise I won’t take up too much time but I wanted to let you know what I have been up to these days.

I am doing well. I remember distinctly those dark days in December of 2011 when it didn’t seem like I ever would be ok again. Never again did I believe I would have to endure the level of sorrow I felt after losing my father. If your passing didn’t top that, it certainly was equal. Your loss devastated me. I felt like a complete and utter failure. I still sometimes feel that way. My days are not as bad today as they were then, but that doesn’t mean that I miss you any less. Or that I don’t think about you every day. Or that I don’t cry when I look at the birthday cards you gave me or the photos we took together. But I have learned to cope. And I accept that you are now in a better place. When my father died, I wrote a letter to him as well. I closed that letter with a paragraph expressing how thankful I was because he no longer had to deal with his illness. Obviously, what I wrote then wouldn’t translate perfectly to today. But there are a few thoughts that have helped me deal with your loss and that hopefully captured the spirit of what I was trying to write after my father’s death. Here they are:

All the pain and all your demons are gone. You won’t have to deal with them anymore. There will be no more worries. There will be no stress. There will be no more unbearable pain. You are at peace. You are now able to be happy.

We had our differences. I guess anyone who spends a great deal of time with someone else eventually discovers that the hard way. Our personalities often clashed for various reasons. You knew more about horoscopes than I ever will, so it probably didn’t take too long for you to figure out that I was a Taurus with my level of “bullheadedness”. I told you that shortly after we met and I am sure you regularly shared that fact with everyone. We had such different backgrounds and seemed to be at different points in our lives when we met. But I told you once that I considered you my best friend. Sometimes you did things that made me wonder if I had spoken too soon and I’m certain I did the same and made you wonder if I had been sincere. But I meant it. And I still do.

Your family and close friends seem to be doing well. I have tried to stay in contact with them over the years. But like me, everybody still misses you and thinks about you. Some seem to deal better than others. But everybody makes it as best they can.

You’re probably wondering why I’m writing you today of all days. Well, today was the day that the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC) opened. You probably thought I had forgotten but I remembered. I told you something the day I moved out of my apartment in Williamsburg. You started to cry because I was leaving and you were scared that our relationship wasn’t going to continue in the same way with such a long distance between us. I told you that I didn’t know either but I wanted to try. And then I made you an offer. I told you that no matter what happened, I wanted to go with you to the NMAAHC on the day that it opened to the public. That seemed to make you feel better and you said you’d like that. That day was today, and I made sure I was there. I am very sad you weren’t able to join me. I wanted to let you know that it was wonderful and the experience only could have been better if I had been able to share it with you. I know that’s not completely true though. You may not have been there  in the way I originally envisioned, but I know you were there with me.

I always remember how upset you were when you found out your dog, Ginger, had passed. As I shared at your Celebration of Life service, you cried more over your pet than I have seen anyone cry over another human. You always seemed to experience emotions in a grander sense than most other people I have met. Us sensitive souls weren’t made for such a mean world. I did my best to console you that day and I hope I succeeded in doing so. You always told me I had and that you appreciated me for it. But you don’t need me anymore to help with the loss of your beloved pet. Because you have found her. You are now with Ginger, probably playing with her and giving her lots of hugs. I know she is happy to see your smiling face, your radiant glow, and your eyes filled with love.

Quisha, you once wrote in a card that “Even though we are miles apart, you still hold a special piece of my days.” I hope you understand that you had the same effect on me.  Because even after all the time that has passed, even with all the difficulties we encountered, and even though there is much more than miles between us, you still hold a special piece of my days.  I love you so very much and I will miss you dearly. But I know we will meet again someday. And when we do, I can’t wait to give you a big hug.

Love,

Jeb

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