grandma, i graduated college with my bachelor's in anthropology and minor in french. i finished summa cum laude with a 4.00 GPA despite 2 Bs. i guess i took enough credits that it padded those lower grades. i finished about 3/4 of my pre-dental courses as well. i had to drop physics 2 which made me feel like a failure, but I got a B in organic chemistry even after failing (like, hardcore failing) my second exam. i'm moving back to flagstaff in less than a month - august 1 - to do a graduate program in sociocultural anthropology. i'm scared. i remember we talked about depression in your last year alive - i definitely got the mood extremities and depressive episodes from you, and i guess my dad, but i feel better attributing it to you because it feels less like a moral failing that way. robert is getting divorced because jen cheated on him for, like, a long time. she is mean and i've always hated her anyway. i'm glad we don't have to see her anymore. what a case. i'm watching my mom's midlife crisis kickstart in real time and it's very strange. i have spent my whole life seeing her as this unwavering beacon of stability and strength, despite, despite, despite, and now my childish veil is disintegrating. this afternoon i made eggs that were so close in taste and texture and saltiness to the ones you used to make me that it made my chest tight. when i move i will miss you even more. i've lived two years in your bedroom now, sleeping in your bed where you dreamt, slept, tossed and turned, watched movies, talked to grandpa, read, wept, and died. i think all the time about your little body curled up on your side, tissues clutched in hand, in your nightgown. i kept all of your stuff. i finally had the courage to look through your wallet a few days ago, and even after three years i couldn't stop crying. i'm sorry it has been so long since i've said anything.

me, mom, and the kiddies saw sandra and stupid joe in california a few months ago. we went to chinatown in LA and went to phoenix bakery - the almond cookies! Robert and grandpa came, too. i miss you so much it kills me. i feel so alone so much of the time. i always had you when i felt this way, and now i need to grow up and figure it out. how much of your life did you spend just figuring things out? probably a lot, i'm sure. i wish i could go back in time and be your mom. or your sister or your good friend. i would have you over all the time and we could eat good food and watch movies and maybe you would have grown up happier. i don't know. you can't change anything, ever. stuff that's already happened, i mean. what a stupid statement - so obvious.

we didn't do beach house for the first time in my life this summer. everyone is growing up. sydney has a boyfriend. me and evan broke up a year and some change ago, and i met a guy in april. i really like him. i would marry him. some time ago i was laying in bed thinking about him, and then about you. he has tattoos - you would be so displeased. but he is so kind, so smart, so capable, so independent, so beautiful. and i laid in bed and cried imagining your absence from my wedding, at my graduation, my graduate commencement, from my life. thinking of you reduces me to tears immediately. i wish life was better and easier and less painful. i wish you had listened to your doctors, i wish you had gotten on an anti-anxiety or anti-depressant or sleep aid. grandpa is a mess. i don't think you'd be in quite this state if he'd gone before you.

i miss sandra. i text her sometimes - just silly pictures i've taken or "love you"s - but i just want to see her and imagine you're coming over, too. her hair smells like yours, she sounds like you, her face looks like yours a bit from the side, but your eyes and teeth are so different. this is getting to be quite long, but i figure it's pretty quiet and lonely wherever you are. i'm sorry that i could not be converted. i know that because nothing came before me, there is almost certainly nothing waiting after me, and i don't like to imagine futures or heavens or whatever where i'll see you again, because i know that won't happen. i think i did that for a bit, but now it's just excruciating. it's much nicer to remember the things that happened, for real, and the things you would say and do. i miss the smell of sunbreeze and onions on your skin. i miss the taste of sunrider toothpaste and coarse toothbrushes, i miss thick sunrider nail varnish, i miss the peel-off masks we would do on our hands. i'd bathe in a sea of roaches to watch a movie with you again. i've watched so many terrible movies lately and i still can't bring myself to re-watch some of our movies because it's just a gut punch.

i promise i'm not always this morose and unpleasant - just lately, maybe the last week or so, i've felt so, so alone. so lonely. i feel very afraid of my future which is rushing towards me at sonic speed. my parents are cases and so is grandpa. robert is sort of my anchor to reality and life these days even though i don't see him much and talk to him even less. i don't know why i'm like this. i would like to feel better-adjusted, though i guess i have to actually do something - play an active role in my own life - to get there. everything feels so hard. i don't enjoy many things these days. i go dancing with my best friend, sara, pretty often, but i don't have much desire to socialize or branch out or anything. you always had lots of friends, i thought. otherwise, i've been writing a lot of garbage and self-indulgent self-flagellation. i feel like my brain never stops running at 300mph, torrential and incessant deluge of thoughts all day - my respite comes only when i sleep and starts back up even before i open my eyes. sometimes even when i sleep i have bizarre dreams - nightmares or otherwise very vivid ones. i dreamt of you just a couple of days ago and i woke up feeling like someone was sitting on my chest.

in this dream, i had driven up to pine and was going to a thrift store. i talked to some lady who mentioned you, which i thought was weird. in all of these dreams about you, i go in thinking, 'well, you can't be here/be talked about, you are dead,' and then at some point am given proof of life and feel ecstatic, and then somehow it resolves again with proof of death. anyway - this woman was like, oh yeah, donna is in the back. and i said, well, that's my grandma! and then you came out. you were wearing necklaces and had your nails done. i said, grandma, please come back with me, we all miss you so much. grandpa misses you and i miss you, and we can all live together again. you said to me, no, i want to be here. i like it here, and i can't come back with you, i'm sorry. and i cried, and cried, and cried, until i felt my head throbbing in my dream. i was so much taller than you and sort of draped my arms around you like a big blanket and held you and cried with my cheek against the top of your head. and then i said, okay, i understand. and when i woke up everything hurt. i don't believe in anything, really, like supernatural or divine or post-mortem communications, and i think all of this dialogue is drawn from my feelings and thoughts and somehow organized in a very emotionally potent way - but it did feel like you. and you did look happier. you looked much better. fatter, healthier, shinier. all gold and red and smiling. i want that for you more than i want you here with me. it's just hard. everything is very, very hard. i know you know that, and so i miss you. i am glad you are in a cozy thrift store with your friend, surrounded by old floral couches and lampshades and vhs tapes. alright. i love you. seeya later.