You Were One

To 23-year-old me on March 25th, 2001, from 42-year-old me in February, 2020,

This moment, the moment that changes your whole life, you will get through it. I promise. It feels like you have been literally broken in half, but you will become whole again. I know you cannot fathom it. This pain is like nothing you could have ever been prepared for. You cannot imagine recovering from this loss. You were her, and she was you. You were one, and who are you without her? There was no warning for this. You weren’t ready and this can’t be real, but my dear, it is. I’m so sorry.

But trust me, you will be okay. You will be better than okay. It will take time, you will get there.

I know you don’t know what is going to happen next, but you will be so loved, and she will be so at peace. She was ready. You weren’t, but she was. She told you that night as she saw your tear-soaked face and typical harried expression that she felt the Lord’s peace. She knew everything was going to be okay, no matter what came next. But you didn’t know yet, so you were scared, panicked, worried. You were you.

But 42-year-old you will crawl out of your warm bed, sneak quietly away from the love of your life, while he snores the evening away, and write this letter, at the urging of a dear friend who doesn’t mind reading what you write. You will tiptoe past your youngest’s room so as not to wake the light sleeper of the house, and sneak into your elder daughter’s room and steal away her laptop to write this to yourself. You will push the hair back from her night-sweaty head and inhale the sweet, late-night smell of her. You will think of her name, your mother's name, and have sweet memories instead of this horrible tear inside of you.

The next year will show you who loves you and who is there for you. It will show the wheat from the chaff, and quicker than you thought it would. In the next 24 hours you will truly see who matters and who can do hard things with you, and who can’t handle the mess.

The year after that will show you who is in love with you and who will be the same person for you every day. The person that has seen you at your very darkest and who is still willing to hold your hand and walk through the filth with you. The person who will never judge you and who will bury those you love with you.

Over the next 20 months, you will say goodbye to your grandmothers, two more women who have anchored you. They have given you your identity, given you your truth, and it will shock you, but less so than you thought, because the worst thing has already happened to you. What more is there? Doesn’t it make sense they should all go together? All of the Dolores women, gone, together, in strength.

And there will be good, so much good. It will come. The most amazing humans will come to your life, those you now cannot imagine being without. Those that hold you, those that keep you, those that you can give back to you.

And then, there will be these girls. These two girls. These two amazingly, wonderful, and perfectly unique girls. They will shock you, they will stretch you, and they will test you, but they will make your little world complete. One will have your mother’s laugh and demeanor, and one will magically have your mother’s eyes and turn your mother’s death day into a true birth day.

There’s more though. This all sounds like so much, and it is, but there is truly more. Oh, my dear you will laugh again. Laugh so hard that you cry and wheeze through the gasps.

Women you love will bring you so much joy, you won’t think it’s possible. The late night talks, the trips away, the sips of shared wine, the shared experiences, the group texts, you will be so surprised! You will be so surrounded by women that are truly amazing. Not one ordinary, all extraordinary. Somehow, a true consolation prize, and a very good one at that. All with such stories, such love, and such light. You won’t be able to contain it. You will want to share it, it’s just too beautiful. It’s not right to keep it to yourself, others must know it too, that unconditional love that you were first loved with. That love she showed you all those 23 years. That right where you are love. There is nothing like it. Supernatural.

And somehow, people will want to hear what you say. Among all of the noise, they will want to hear, and you won’t know why, but you will write anyway. You will be shocked by who wants to hear you, but they do.

So my dear, I must tell you these things.

You will be okay.

You will miss her.

It will always hurt, but you will be okay. And most days, you will be more than okay.

You will be good.

It will be hard, but I promise you, it will be good.

The worst has already happened.

I hope.