Letter 1
By esther a few months ago
I’m reminded of you often. The streets of LA are lined with those trees—you know the ones, the ones you named yourself after. Every time I see them, I think of you. I wonder if you graduated high school last term like you hoped you would. But it’s okay if you didn’t. I know how hard it was, and I hope you know you’re not alone in that. There’s no deadline for getting through life.
I think of your sister and friends, too, and that little apartment you dreamed of sharing. I hope you moved out together, that you found that space for each other. But if not, that’s okay too. There’s still time. There’s always time.
I wonder about your pets, if they still follow you around the way they used to, curling up in the soft corners of your life. I hope you’re still watching movies and TV shows that make you feel something, that spark those little fires inside you. I remember those afternoons we spent picking apart films, talking about characters like they were people we knew. You always had such a way of seeing things, an angle no one else would catch. I still think about that sometimes. How your thoughts were a kind of art in themselves, each observation a brushstroke.
I always told you how creative you are, but I hope you remind yourself, too. The way you think about things—so thoughtful, so intentional. I think there’s something sacred in that. You saw the world with your own lens, colored in ways that felt truer than anything I could find in myself.
No judgment, but I hope you’re finding ways to slow down, especially on the heavier stuff. I know it’s hard. Life has edges that feel softer when dulled, but I hope you can stick with what grounds you, what makes the edges manageable without cutting too deep. Pot always seemed to help with that, a gentle kind of quiet.
And you—I still see you behind a bar somewhere, laughing with customers, mixing drinks like a poet stringing together stanzas. That dream of yours to be a bartender—I hope you’re still holding onto it, even if it’s just in the corners of your mind. You have a way with people, a way of making anyone feel like they’re home.
I learned so much from you. I hope you know that. About life, about seeing things differently, about being brave enough to dream even when the world feels stacked against you.
I hope wherever you are, you’re giving yourself some compassion and grace. You deserve it.
Always,
Esther
September 1, 2024