Dear Dadaw,

            I feel like I’m stuck in a nightmare. I’m still hoping that it was all just a mistake and you’ll come walking through the door with some smartass comment about you playing yet another prank on us. I heard Mama run out the front door this morning. Her desperate screaming “I’m coming as fast as I can” has replayed in my mind all day, guilt not far behind. I almost went back to bed. How shitty of me is that? Instead of immediately getting up and following her across the street, I heavily debated rolling over and going back to sleep. I hope you’re not disappointed in me. Once I finally got up, Maddie and I ran over to your house. The police officer that lived down the road was already there. He told us to stay in the kitchen. That’s when I knew. We sat down on the plush tan rug under the dining table, huddling together because that’s all we could do.

            Today was the first time I had ever seen a dead body. The morgue was stiff and cold and smelled like chemicals. Time didn’t feel real down there, nothing did. It’s a weird feeling to look at the face of someone you love, but not see the warmth of their skin, the glow in their eyes, or the wrinkles in their face when they laugh. The adults around me kept telling me not to remember you that way, but that was pretty easy when I didn’t feel like I was looking at you anyways.

            So many people filtered in and out of your house that day, but it was mostly people I didn’t know. I was angry, watching people come in who weren’t crying or upset. It felt like they were mocking us, like they were bragging about getting to go home to their loved ones. I’m trying to be strong for Mama and Memaw; they need me now more than ever. I wish I didn’t have to be strong, I’m only 16. I wish you were still here.

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            This can’t be happening. It hasn’t even been three weeks since you’ve been gone, and now my cousin Lil T is gone too. I was at the high school for a newspaper staff meeting when I started getting texts from Mama. “They can’t find Lil T,” her text popped up on my Apple Watch as I was stapling paper to a bulletin board. My face scrunched up in confusion. “What do you mean they can’t find him?” I replied. Did he run away? Unfortunately, that was not the case.

            Memaw and her sister came to pick me up from the high school and brought me to the creek where they were looking for him. There were so many people standing around the Muckalee waiting for some kind of answer. I remember sinking my new Nikes deeper into the mud; maybe sacrificing my clean shoes would help them find him. Maybe it worked, but it wasn’t the outcome anyone wanted. They found his body at the bottom of the creek. Because of his epilepsy, he had a seizure as he was rope swinging, causing him to get stuck under the water and drown.

            His 17th birthday is a week from today. He was only 16. He was still a fucking kid. How could this happen? Why did this happen? He was named after you, Terry Milford Wills III. Is there somehow a connection in these events? Why is our family cursed with tragedy in this season? I can’t make sense of any of it. Now Memaw has to be there for her son who lost his son when she just lost the love of her life, Mama has to be there for Memaw, even though she lost her dad, who was clearly her favorite parent, and I have to be there for Mama even though I lost my grandpa and one of my biggest supporters. Who is going to be there for me?

 

            I’ve been wondering why I’m still here. Is there any real purpose of me being alive? I feel like I’m inconveniencing those around me by existing. These thoughts were confirmed today by my boyfriend, Jacob. We had been fighting, which isn’t out of the norm for us. I was standing in my AP Environmental Science classroom talking to Jessica when the one-minute warning bell blared through the intercom. I looked around and took a deep breath, sighing of relief when I saw that Jacob wasn’t in class. The relief didn’t last long though because soon enough he was storming through the door and walking right up to me. There was barely any space between us which was all I could focus on. The only thing I remember was him muttering that I was a “waste of space” as he yanked his jacket from my hands. In the 3 years that I have known him, this has been the only moment where I was genuinely worried that he would hit me.

            I didn’t cry in class. Luckily, I didn’t have to be around him because we were starting a new project that involved taking pictures outside. Jessica saw the events go down and graciously decided to be my partner. She kept me preoccupied during the remainder of the class. I almost lost it on the bus ride home. Those three words echoed in my head over the music playing in my headphones. I wiped the tears as they formed in my eyes, begging myself to hold it together for just awhile longer. I couldn’t let the middle schoolers see me cry.

            I don’t have any energy to do my homework. I think I’m just going to lie down. I wish you were here to give me advice so I wouldn’t have to think about the boy I love calling me a waste of space.
 

            I received my class ring today. Mom, Dad, and Memaw came on stage to present it to me. I wish you were there too. It’s weird to think that I only have about a year left of high school, and you won’t be here to see me graduate. I’m the only grandchild you won’t see walk across the stage. I miss you asking me every day what I learned at school. I would always try and write down the most interesting things I heard throughout the day and use the hour-long bus ride home to figure out what I would tell you. I miss you being there in your rocking chair on the front porch waiting for me, sipping on a diet coke.

            My favorite days were the ones where you would tell me you made a trip to Sam’s Club. You would wink at me and tell me to go check “my drawer,” aka the top drawer of the dresser that was in the back bedroom. You would hide my favorite snacks in there, like powdered donuts and those big ass cinnamon rolls, to keep them out of sight from visitors. Things just haven’t been the same since you’ve been gone. That drawer is empty now. I don’t think it’ll ever be full again. There will be no more of our little secrets. I don’t know if I can eat powdered donuts anymore.

            Everyone keeps telling me that you’re still watching over me from Heaven or whatever other bullshit to try and make me feel better. Maybe they’re right, but I’d rather you be here in person to celebrate the little victories with me. It’s just not fair that you’re not here. I miss you.

 

            Today is Mama’s 43rd birthday, her first one without you. I knew it was going to be a bad one, but none of us were expecting this. The weather has been shitty the last few days because of Hurricane Michael. Of course, it’s just Mama’s luck that the hurricane had to hit Leesburg on her actual birthday. It hit our area really hard, worse than Hurricane Irma a few years back. Our neighbor’s tree fell over and hit the house, my room specifically. We were sitting in the hallway in between mine and Maddie’s rooms when suddenly we heard a loud thud coming from my room. Mom and Dad peeked in and saw that my brown bookshelf had been completely knocked over and there was now a hole in my wall and a crack on my ceiling. I clearly get my bad luck from Mama because my room was the only room in the house that was damaged. The power lines were also damaged, so the whole neighborhood is out of power.

             I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if you were here. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so scared.  You would’ve been across the street. Hell, maybe we would’ve been over there with you. We’d sit in your living room, huddled around your red lantern, laughing and not worrying about the weather. Maybe that tree wouldn’t have hit my room. Even if it did, you would’ve helped fix the damages. I was your favorite grandchild, Memaw told me. You would’ve done anything for me. You paid attention to me when no one else did.

 

            Memaw got a new chihuahua puppy today. He’s a light brown color with grayish eyes that almost look like yours and he’s so small. His name is Oliver, or Ollie for short. He likes to play with my hair, especially when it’s in a ponytail. I’ve been living with her since the hurricane destroyed my room. There’s been so much destruction in the Leesburg/Albany area that no one has been able to come out to fix the damages. I don’t really mind, though. I think she really needed the company, hence why she added Ollie to the family. Like most grandmas, Memaw really likes taking care of people to keep herself busy, especially since she’s retired. She cooks for me almost every night (we eat a lot of homemade French fries since it’s both of our comfort foods) and even does my laundry for me while I’m at school.

             I like being over here with Memaw. Memaw doesn’t get mad at me like Mama does. I don’t have to walk around on eggshells over here or feel like I have to always be doing something productive so I don’t get in trouble. With Mama I feel like I have to make sure she’s in a good mood before I can talk to her. I play therapist sometimes and put her needs before my own. It shouldn’t be like that. She should be the one making sure I’m okay.

            Things have been feeling different at my house. I’m not sure what’s going on, but the air feels more tense. I’ve been avoiding going over there, always saying that I have a lot of homework. I’m glad to get away from it all.

 

            I made it through my first Christmas without you. This holiday season has not been the same for so many reasons. Mom and Dad told us today that they’re getting a divorce. Mom has been staying over at Memaw’s in the room across the hall from mine. We’re still not sure when my room will get fixed. I feel like I shouldn’t be surprised that Mom and Dad are getting a divorce, I mean they almost did once before when I was younger. They had been fighting more than normal and were avoiding being around each other. I think they were trying to wait until I graduated to get a divorce. That makes me feel like shit.

            I know they say divorce is never the children’s faults but why can I not shake the feeling that Maddie and I had something to do with it? Mama has changed a lot since you’ve been gone. She doesn’t seem to like any of us anymore. Maybe we remind her too much of you.

             I wonder if Mom and Dad still would’ve gotten a divorce if you never died.

 

            You would’ve been 71 today. I’ve been thinking a lot about some of my favorite memories of us. Remember a few years ago when I was in the 8th grade, and we went camping in Alabama? It rained pretty much the whole time, so we spent a lot of time inside of your camper eating cantaloupe and watching tv. One day, we were watching the nature channel and it was talking about bears. It said something along the lines of bears eating up to 90 pounds in one day. You thought it was funny to compare that to me. The only difference was that at the time, I barely weighed over 90 pounds, so you decided to start calling me Little Bear. I wish you were here, and I could hear you call me Little Bear one more time.

            I still can’t believe you’re not here. When will these feelings go away? Will I ever be able to return to life like normal? Is this my new normal? I haven’t talked to anyone about how I’ve been feeling, except for you. I don’t want to worry them with my problems when I know that they are also dealing with grief. It just wouldn’t be fair to add anything else onto them. It’s okay. I’ll deal with my problems on my own. I always have.

 

            I’m 17 today. It’s my first birthday without you here to celebrate with me. Mom and Dad are trying to be civil and come together to make things seem normal, but things could not feel further from normal. This is the first birthday where I haven’t woken up to my parents singing me happy birthday. I didn’t even see Mama until I got home from school, and she got off work. I think Mom and Dad feel guilty about things being different, because they’re letting me bring my friends out to Mellow Mushroom. None of my friends know that my parents are getting a divorce. I didn’t want them to pity me. They’ll see my parents sitting at the same table tonight and not think twice. I’ll have to paste on a smile and act like things are not different even though it feels like the world is crumbling around me.

            This is the first of many birthdays I will be spending without you. You will never be here again to see me graduate high school or college, get married, or have kids. You won’t get to scare my future boyfriends and make sure they treat me right. You won’t be here to watch me grow into the person I was always meant to be. It feels impossible to go on without you here with me, but I know that life has to continue. You wouldn’t want me to put my life on pause. I will never forget you. This isn’t goodbye. I will talk to you again soon.

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Love,

Little Bear