blessing from a child who has committed suicide

dearest loved ones who raised me:

i love you. please hold my body as it goes cold. i know this will be hard. please.

please remember to be quiet sometimes. i may come to you in the silence. i may come to you when you are walking. listen for me, will you?

look at where you are right now. i love you. i didn’t deserve you. but you had me anyways and for that, i am forever grateful.

i can imagine that each of you would trade your lives for mine. i cannot imagine how it feels to bring a soul into the world and then watch it leave (i have never had children). i know there is no replacing me. know that i don’t want you to. i was yours and you, mine. i am yours. you are mine. time and space are fiction. remember.

please hold each other. it how i came to you. it is how you will make it now that i have gone on ahead. everything has changed and nothing has changed.

there are no words for this and yet here i am in words. it makes sense to push this away, the unimaginable.

remember me when you stand together, hold hands, and look at nature.

forgive me. forgive each other. forgive yourselves.

imagine, remember, that all is one, this moment, the last moment, the next moment, all moments.

i love you.

— inspired by To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings by John O’Donohue and it’s quiet uptown by lin manuel-miranda and my dearest, b.s.

words / writing / post-processing
224w / 7min / 4min