It has been a month since I had to help you cross the rainbow bridge. Letting you go was one of the hardest decisions I had to do in my life. You were giving me your sassy smile the night before you were put to sleep. I know mentally you were hanging in there, but your body couldn’t withstand the damage from cancer anymore. The next morning when you refused to eat—I knew it was over.
The surgeon called to see how Shakira was doing. When I explained Shakira had walked, she was shocked.
“Already? That was not supposed to happen for at least another two days.”
Shakira proved she was gonna keep fighting.
In August of 2021, I noticed a small bump on Shakira’s front right leg. It felt hard and was about the size of my pinky in diameter. She didn’t show any signs of discomfort or injury but finding that abnormality bothered me. Little did I know that small bump was going to become Shakira’s worst nightmare.
As a kid, I never had a problem making friends. Sure, I was a quiet child, but making friends came easy. I did not think my family had a problem with the friends I made but I soon realized this was a lie. There were certain kinds of friends some of my family members had issues with.
It feels like yesterday when I first held your tiny body in the hospital. At 11-years-old, I felt this big responsibility over you. All I wanted to do in that moment was to protect you and be the best role model possible; someone you can look up to. You grew into a smart, strong-minded, independent woman with a love for numbers, Star Wars, and Hershey’s chocolate.
My anxiety has been on overdrive. I am always terrified for my husband. I worry about the people I care about, and deal with my own fears. There have been nights where I have not slept due to nightmares or insomnia. In all that darkness, I have found tiny lights.
I gave thanks on Thursday for the friends and family who are still in my life. Titi Elsie’s death also made me reflect about those who are no longer with us. It was both sweet and painful to remember my angels in heaven.
It can be scary to talk about suicide. As someone who battles both moderate depression and general anxiety disorder, the topic can be overwhelming to discuss with loved ones. I never want to scare anyone with my dark thoughts or have them watch my every move like a surveillance camera. Sometimes just being heard is more than enough.
I feel like a lost sheep when it comes to finding a spiritual connection with the big guy upstairs. Since I am better at writing my thoughts out than saying them, I figured I would write down my prayers in the form of a letter. Mixed emotions came out of this project, but I learned a lot more about myself during those 45 days.
This was not an easy post for me to write, but I wanted to share my truth. On International Women’s Day, I decided to write a letter to my younger self and it was an emotional experience.