A letter from Nov 24, 2022

Dear Future Me, Found it necessary to write a second letter on this same day. You can call this version of your past self Suzume for now. I'm gonna mark all the dates of the deaths (if not a good estimate) or just heartbreaking moments altogether involving important people I knew/admired/etc. I have the uncanny habit of memorizing emotional moments. School year of 2016: I was six. I found out my classmate's dad had died in a car accident years ago. She kind of just shrugs it off. I did the same until 2017 when I realized what ***** actually meant. January 21, 2017: Grandma died. I was seven. I remember staring down at her body at her funeral, looking to the side and realizing "wow this is gonna be the first and last time I'm gonna see all my relatives crying," then not being allowed to be near her ashes after watching her get sent into the cremation machine. Then watching the fireworks on Chinese New Years later... that made me smile and broke my heart at the same time. The festivities and my innocence made the hole in my heart a little smaller, and the fact that the people working at the funeral service center kept a straight face later inspired part of me to be a creative writer without realizing it. Ikr it's weird that I get such weird inspiration. It was also the last time my relatives got together for a family reunion. It's been 5 years. I'm 12 right now and I am an entirely different person. Sometime mid-school-year 2017-2018: My friend's pet rat Nutty died. I was seven or eight in second grade. My friend walks into school and is grieving. We grieved with her. Later in 3rd grade: My classmate tells me that her dad abandoned her family when she was younger. She doesn't remember much, just that there was *insert typical family argument scene that leads to divorce*. Later in 4th-5th grade, pre-Pandemic: The dad of two childhood friends that I once knew died in a heart attack. Was 3000 miles away when I heard about the news. Couldn't even offer grievances. 5th grade, 2020, during Pandemic: A Buddhist nun who was so kind to me died of unknown reasons. She was the janitor in our small California school and often stopped to talk to me in the hallways. They proclaimed her dead in the hospital. Me, in love with literature and writing, wrote what I found out later is called an obituary in her honor. One of the few people who gave me hope for humanity. Yesterday night, November 23: This was the last straw. My mom's face when she heard about my friends' dad's *****. I don't think I'll forget that one in a while. And yes, it's friends', not friend's. Two of them, sisters, one writing a 300+ page collab with me, the other whose face literally brightens my day, whether I realize it or not. Their mom is my mom's friend. They were on vacation in Lake Tahoe, apparently, a common place for several of our families to have fun on holidays in our small community. Drowned for unknown reason. I'm used to the feeling of the hole in my heart, but this. This was too much. Cried on my friends' behalf in the bathroom for 30 minutes in our hotel room in Miami. We're on vacation too, and let's just say I won't forget this one, but not for a good reason. Worst Thanksgiving ever. I'm thankful that I didn't just die of a panic attack. I'm not going back to Lake Tahoe for a long, long time. No regrets, Suzume P.S. To whoever reads this publicly, thanks for taking the time to share my thoughts. Hope you have a better day than I did writing this :)