I’ve avoided writing for a while now and its been killing me but I just can’t seem to get my thoughts in order. I guess I’ll start from the beginning.

I’m 20 now dad, my birthday was 2 weeks ago. I am old and its showing. I remember you used to tell me that. It was hard not seeing you on my birthday. It was hard acting like I was ok with you being gone, acting like it was my special day and I secretly wasn’t screaming on the inside. Just like last year we had birria and tres leches and choco flan cake. My friends came over and we sang happy birthday and then I left with the friends.

When they sang happy birthday we didn’t have any candles. I’m glad we didn’t because all I would have wished for was for you to come back. I know that is a damn awful wish considered you are nothing but a pile of ashes sitting on the mantle. What would you come back as? A  ghost? To be honest if you could come back, I don;t care what it would be as, as long as you stayed with me forever I would want you.

This past saturday we went to Morongo. It was me, mom, anita, pote and nalgas blancas (Peter). It was your old haunt dad. I don;t understand how you could stand it, it was way too ritzy. Peter drove the truck and going down the 60 to the 10, in that horrible stretch of road, I was scared for the first time ever. I have never been scared when you drive that piece. I never felt anything going through there. And then I realized how different everything will be next time we go to El Paso, or next time we go somewhere where you normally drove to. The truck wont smell of cigarettes and coffee. There wont be any stories or anyone telling the kids to shut the fuck up. We wonthear a god damnit everytime someone has to go to the bathroom. Nothing will ever be the same.

Tomorrow its going to be 6 months since you decided to leave. The past few days I’ve been replaying everything in my head. Its weird how I can remember certain things and other things are just a mystery.

Today in philosophy I was thinking about your funeral, who was there and how did it play out. I tried so hard not to cry when I went up to see you in your rented casket. I was strong that day, so strong for you and I’m still trying to be strong and I am succeeding. I think that deserves a hell yeah, don’t you?

My mom wants to finally start grief counseling. I’m scared though to admit to anyone that I am angry with you and mom. You for getting sick and leaving, and my mom for not being there for you like she should have been. I know both things I am angry about are normal, but its selfish of me.

Last Friday I went to cut my hair. And I was remembering the first time I cut my hair really short how you poked fun at me and told me I looked like a boy. And then I remembered in 7th grade when I cut off all of my hair how I had to call and ask you for permission. And then I remembered in September after you got out of the hospital when you went and cut off all of your hair. A buzz cut, like you had when you were in Vietnam. You got impatient waiting for me to get home from school that day and drove yourself. I still regret coming home late because after that day you were never the same.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like had you never gotten sick. What would you be doing right now at this very instant?

Considering it is 7pm you would probably be asleep because you had to be at work at 4am. My mom would be packing your lunch and then at around 10pm, or whoever was the last person to go to sleep, they would prgram the coffee pot.

Tomorrow you would wake up at 2:30, get ready for work and watch the news. Drink your coffee and take some to go. You would go to work and be off at around 1:30 or 2pm. you would then come home rest for a bit and go off for the boys and be back at 3:10..the latest 3:12.

Then you would either open the garage and stand there just watching cars pass by, or play basketball with the boys or play with aileen and desi. Or you would go to the store and get something my mom needed for dinner.

We would eat dinner at around 4:30 or 5pm. You would shave, shower then watch tv until you fell asleep.

I talked to mom today about calling Mary. I know you didn’t want her to know anything but still dad. She deserves to know something even though she was a bitch to you.

And I bet if you were here you would tell me “Do whatever the fuck you want” because you know I am right.

At the end of June a reunion is being planned in El Paso. My mom wants to start spreading your ashes dad. Would you mind if I kept you in a locket around my neck?

I’ve been reading up on a lot of stuff and I have come to the conclusion that whenever, and if I ever get married I am walking down the aisle wearing something of yours. Whether its your watch, some of your socks or even one of your jacets. And the day I have kids, be sure that I will tell them about you. I will tell them what a grump you were and how funny you were, and how you would do anything for your grandkids, and for me. How much everyone loved you and how you are in heaven watching down on them.

Well this is all for now. I don’t want to start crying.

I love you.

-Stephanie