A letter I wrote to myself days before my mom died

Photo by John Jennings on Unsplash

I read Rachel Hollis’s “Girl, Wash Your Face” and other such off-the-shelf, millennial self empowering books while I was taking care of my mom last year. They were what you’d expect: motivating and instructive. While going through the torment of the deepest and darkest fear of my life, I was able to write a letter to myself, as instructed by Ms. Hollis, that had to fulfill the following criteria:

• a letter to yourself as an imaginary friend
• unconditionally loving
• accepting
• compassionate
• sees weaknesses and flaws
• sees strengths and good qualities
• and keep writing for 10 minutes

I wrote this in my journal, while lying on my bed and trying my best to do all those things as genuinely as I could right before making dinner. It’s funny because this morning, as I sat in the bright, airy Airbnb my friends and I are living in here in Lima, Peru, I randomly opened my journal to this page and found the letter. And although it’s only been 5 months since I wrote it, my god it really shows that it’s been 5 long months since I wrote it. I was quite impressed with myself, because the 5 months ago me reminded me of things I needed to hear today.

This is what the letter wrote.

Hey friend,

I know you have just gone through the hardest year of your life. You found a few new callings, were able to leave home and fend for yourself in the great white north – you did it all successfully and ultimately realized the millennial dream – all for it to be taken away from you. You faced horrors you never thought would occur, and you loved so hard it created a negative effect. I know. I’ts been the worst year, and your worst fear is a living, pulsing thing that’s been drawn out for 5 months already.

But trust me when I say that if it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger. I know, with 100% of my soul and spirit and being that you will take everything you’ve gone through this year to live life as best you can for the rest of your days.

You are well-loved, because you have loved. You have kind and generous friends, because you have been and are a kind and generous friend. And you have a family that loves you unconditionally, because you have loved them unconditionally.

Of course there will still be difficult days ahead – but not really. You’ve seen discrimination, worked at the bottom, worked at the top – you know how it is. And everything will be breezy from here on. You have what you need to do anything you want in the world. You can realize all those beautiful dreams you want to achieve.

I know some of the fear and anxiety is coming back. That’s ok. Because remember your resting bitchface? That’s what you do best; put it on, erase the anxiety and just take action. No more inaction, no more paralysis by analysis. You are so well disciplined – a perfect model of your mother – and so much more. You keep her memory alive by taking advantage of her teachings – and not implementing her habits that ruined her; the things she never liked about herself, her overworking, her antisociality. You, my friend, are a most improved version of your beautiful mom, and you should know that you inspire so many others.

Don’t worry about social constructs of timelines – not even those constructed in your head. Always remember that the universe has your back, that what needs to happen next will always happen next. Don’t think or worry too far into the future. Ask questions. Ask for help. And remember to ask about your friends. Not every detail matters. And not everyone you meet matters in your life. They are all lessons. And be ok to be yourself around people. You will find your true friends ands soulmates better that way. Remember, I am only a pen away.

Love,

Me

I suggest you also write a letter to yourself, as an imaginary friend, whether you’re going through a tough time or not. Look at the way you speak to yourself while stuck in your own mind, and look at the way you speak to yourself as a friend. Our minds are traps for abusive relationships – lifelong ones if you allow the mean things you say to yourself manifest into your daily life. Find compassion for yourself, just like you do for your friends when they’ve lost a job. Be kind to yourself, like you’re kind to your friends when they’re disappointed someone else’s actions. And most of all, be a friend to yourself, give yourself the advice you give to your friends when they can’t get themselves out of their own minds, as well.

Thank you, friends

One time on a first date I was asked, “who is your best friend and why?”. I thought it was a fantastic question because it tells you quite a bit about a person. And this was and still is my answer: I don’t have one and never really have. In high school I got along with most social groups and cliques. Since then I’ve done a good job of seeing everyone for their strengths – every relationship you have has a purpose and a value to exploit; if you don’t know how to take advantage of each person’s ability to be a good friend you’re going to run into emotional turmoil. No, you should NOT go to your mom who married at 20 and has been at the same job for 35 years about modern-day dating issues. Yes, you should go to your level-headed male friend when you’re drowning through a breakup and about to contact your ex. Again.

If I’m lucky, I’ll have only a few more decades to do whatever else I’d like to do on this earth. Our sunsets are numbered, our conversations are limited, and our hugs will come to a startling halt one day. I find it difficult but good for my inner peace to focus on these people only, and be the best friend I can be to them. Our parents and family and friends are only getting older, weaker, and sicker. One day I’ll be needed, too.

All that being said, I did some strange and unforgivable things during the 6 months my mom was slowly dying. And for some miraculous reason the group of people I call my friends still did the things I needed them to do as such: they’d forgiven me and are still the kind, generous, helpful, caring people I’d ever known them to be. And they deserve some special recognition, so here goes.

 

• Thank you, friends, for telling me you have no idea what to say about my mom dying. I value honesty so much more than meaningless words to fill sound and space. I was happy to hear it. I had no idea what to say, either.
• Thank you, friend, for reaching out after 20 years of no contact. Hearing about your own mother’s story was cathartic while I was living through the same thing.
• Thank you, friend, for forgiving me after I yelled at you at a Korean restaurant. I know you had the best of intentions, and even though I still don’t agree with what you said, I should not have made you feel bad about it.
• Thank you friend, for forgetting about our disastrous sexual encounter and trying fiercely to help me function and keep my family alive while your own mom was sick at home. Your boldness and tenacity is inspiring. I’m still wondering how to reach out to you again.
• Thank you friend, for forgiving me after getting your car squashed by a semi. It’s just a car, I know, but you didn’t have to lend it to me for months, and by choosing to do so I was able to buy groceries, drive my mom back and forth to the hospital, and keep my family functioning(ish) and alive.
• Thank you, friend, for flying across the country to take care of me.
• Thank you, mentors, for reaching out consistently to make sure I was still alive.
• Thank you, beautiful, smart, gentlemanly men for saying things to me I probably don’t deserve. Because of that I believe a little more that I am that hot, intelligent, kind, interesting person you all seem to think I am.
• Thank you childhood friend, who I only see when my parents die. I’m sorry. You’ve got a strong hold in the recesses of my memories. I promise this will never happen again.
• Thank you, friend, for sharing 3 bottles of wine with me in 3 hours. I never told you that when I went home that evening, I got off the bus and cried so hard at a bus stop that a fire brigade came to my aid.
• Thank you, friend, for remembering the qualifications and skills I have and still want me to be a business partner. I’m a shell with good business skills.
• Thank you friends, for constantly offering to adopt me. Those I’ve lived with – I will do so again, and I’m constantly making my rounds.
• Thank you friend, for consistently and constantly asking me out, even though I kept saying no for months and months. I am so happy you’re in my life. Let’s do more skiing together.
• And thank you universe, for allowing me to cross paths with such fine human beings. I am grateful for their strength and generosity; I hope that one day I can do the same for them as well.

 

Thank you all for being genuine, honest, patient, and taking care of me while I bumble around the globe trying to get back on my feet. Please keep calling me out on stupid shit that I do, and please keep sending me off to private islands when my personal safety is threatened. You are all the best of friends. I love you.

 

Irene