"The Last Letter" by Paulina J

 

Right at the beginning of the year 2020, I had to endure one of the most traumatic experiences in my entire life, thinking about it still makes my skin crawl. On a Sunday afternoon, my grandma walked into my room, falling onto her knees. She was crying, completely balling her eyes out, but I heard the pain in her voice. I was confused, in shock, and was told that my grandpa had been killed in Mexico. Hearing these words come to life was heartbreaking and filled my body with anger. Who would do that to him? How can the thought of killing my best friend even cross someone’s mind? He was my angel, he was my everything, no matter the circumstances.

I was lost, but most importantly, outraged. I felt my skin getting hot and my blood boiling, but the thing is I am not so mad at the person who killed him, but more so upset at myself for never responding to the letters he sent me while he was in prison, and for never answering the phone calls he made when he was released. I never thought that the last letter he sent would be the last one, and I never thought that I would never hear his voice again. I held a grudge with him after the age of nine, and for what? Who knows? I was upset at him for the pain he put my grandma through, and for the way he disregarded my mom’s feelings while she was growing up and trying to figure out what life was and make sense of it. I was upset that his actions led him to a prison sentence of 15 years, and that he was not there for me while I was growing up. He was selfish while he was here, but even then, what was the point in doing that?

Trying to justify my reasons for my actions does not make sense now that time has passed, and I realize that I should have let go of that anger towards him and made things right before it was too late. Experiencing this in the middle of the most important and hardest year of high school was beyond difficult. I was unfocused. I was confused. I would sit in class numb and exist in complete numbness. I did not want to talk to anyone, I hated society because of the evil people that were in it. I just wanted to say goodbye to him, but I could not even do that because if I even attended his funeral, there was a chance I would be killed too. No matter how much I tried to go, my mom told me no over and over again. My poor grandpa died alone, with no immediate family in his presence. The whole thing sucked, I needed to apologize for absolutely everything. Time passed, and as we all know, time heals everything. Eventually, I came to terms with it, and I forgave him through prayers, hoping he would be listening to me all those times. I realized that forgiving myself is just as important as forgiving him, it was better late than never.

Though this event brought lots of ache to myself and my family, I knew I had to continue to make him proud. I needed to refocus and dedicate myself to the things I knew he would want for me to be doing, which is making something big out of myself. No matter how much this event took a toll on me emotionally and mentally, I knew I had to step over the huge barrier in front of me and do something about it, so that is exactly what I did. I needed to get my act together because I knew it is what he would have wanted. I aimed to get a 4.0 GPA and ended with a 4.4. I quit the extracurricular activity that drained me emotionally. I got a new job, and I am now working at three jobs just a couple of months later. Doing all these things made me the best version of myself, I simply did what I had to do because life is way too short to live unhappy and having regrets. I miss him more than anyone can imagine, but I hope he is proud of me, and I hope he is watching over me every single day as I focus on my personal growth and happiness, for my own sake, and in honor of his memory.