Now that I’m dead, I want to tell you a few things.
Dear Greenhill Elementary School’s kindergarten class of 1980, I stole the bag of wool. Remember that sheep farmer that came to our class and talked to us about shearing sheep? And she let us reach inside that big plastic bag and touch the lumps of yellow, oily fleece. Well, I picked up the bag and put it in my bookbag and pretended I didn’t. And it stayed there burning like shame while I panicked for days and the teacher scolded the unknown culprit. But no one ever suspected me because I was the smart kid who never got in trouble and was never ordered to the front to be paddled. In the end I threw it away in a metal trash can when no one was looking and covered it with paper because I was afraid to give it back and get found out and by then, the bag had stopped looking like spun gold. It was me, sorry.
Dear young man, now most likely middle aged, who lived in a garret apartment off the Champs Elysee in the summer of my 18th year. Remember how you made love to me and woke me up to show me the sun rising over Paris from the roof, made me breakfast and love to me again? You Rock.
Dear husband, that first weekend we spent together, I saw you when you thought I wasn’t looking. You were sitting on the futon in my tiny efficiency apartment over the shoe store and didn’t realize I could see you in the hallway mirror. You had leaned your head against the wall, closed your eyes and had a look on your face like you were both in pain and in bliss all at the same time. That’s how I knew you were in love with me. And I never was afraid to die until we met. The one thing that scares me about being dead is that I can’t imagine a heaven that’s better than being with you on earth. Thank god I didn’t say crap like this when I was alive.
Dear Mom, every time I look in the mirror, I only like the features that we share. Dear Dad, When I was alive I thought of you every day and I bet you didnt think I did because I know I didn’t call enough.
Dear First Mentor, I learned more from watching you work for one day than I learned in years of school. I use what you taught me almost every day. I doubt you have any clue that you are my mentor.
Dear God, I tried. Dear Devil, thanks for the good times but hope I’m not seeing you anytime soon.
Dear wonderful people who filled my life with love, I thank you and loved you too and if you’re all wondering what the other side is like… well, you mainly just write a lot of letters and send twitter updates. But it does look a lot like Hawaii.