Monday, October 8, 2007

Dear Kyle

The internet is a powerful, mysterious place capable of summoning people I thought were inaccessible, so here goes:

Dear Kyle,

What the fuck? You died, leaving mom and dad and yes, even me, in all kinds of ridiculous pain. And why? Because you thought it was a good idea to leap onto a moving train. Who does that? No one does that, because it's a totally retarded move. And what makes it particularly retarded in your case is that you were smart. Quick. Clever. Wise. Whatever you want to call it, you had it, which makes it all the less understandable how such a goddamn boneheaded move could've killed you.

Have you been reading mom's blog? She has this one post I'd like to direct you to. She's worrying about the possibility that you might still be existing somewhere somehow and that, if you are, you're likely kicking yourself and punching walls and raging about your stupidity. She feels bad that you might be feeling bad.

Well, you should be. You're an idiot.

But I miss you. I don't know if I ever told you this, but I was really looking forward to getting old with you. Not in a creepy, unmarried, middle-aged roommate kind of way, but in an across the country, across the world, hand-written letter, yearly meetings with drinks and a joint and funny, sad stories kind of way. I was looking forward to being an aunt. I was looking forward to having someone, after mom and dad are gone, who knew how it was in Los Angeles in the 80s in our little Tudor house with Spike and Quaker and our beautiful bougainvillea. We could pick lemons from my bedroom window. We had the loudest alarm that went off a dozen times at least, but only because we lost our keys or the Santa Anas were blowing hot and hard across the city.

The house is gone, you know. And of course there's mom and dad. Quaker's dead, Spike's dead, and Kyle, you're dead. It's gonna be just me.

Which I guess isn't that big a deal. Only children do it all the time. But I spent twenty-five years rolling my eyes at you, only to have to spend the next fifty regretting it. I'm not an only child, I'm an only sibling. And I'm really pissed.

So up yours,
with love,

Mir

P.S. I get the bedroom at Christmas now. Ha.

10 comments:

c. g. said...

i keep waiting to get angry too. but i can't. but i understand you being angry 'cause it is so goddamned fucking awful that he's gone. and that he left you to be an only child. and an only adult. and after all the work i did to grow him and birth him and try to be a good mom; and after all the work we all did to raise him up and keep him safe. and maybe i am angry, but i can't tell, because i am too too sad.

Lunafly said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Lunafly said...

I didn't want to say anything before, but I'm glad you see now that you are not an only child. Your relationship with Kyle was something that only the two of you could share. Just because you moments together have ended, the memories of your years together can never be taken.

c. g. said...

alicia -- i realize that in imagining miranda's only child fate as a tragedy, i am being quite insensitive to the other only children in the world or even in our family, such as yourself. maybe one important message here is to realize that you and miranda and rhea, as well as the other cousins, need to keep in touch and get together every once in a while and get to know each other. because you are the family each other will have when the generation of your parents and great aunts and uncles are gone. how's that for a cheery thought.

Robin said...

Too true Auntie, too true....and through Kyle we have learned how fragile and how fleeting any one of our lives might be...

And Mir, I don't blame your frustration in Kyle's singular moment of error on that dreadful day....it has forever changed the balance of so many lives... but I do know that one day you will forgive him...

Hugs, sweetie.

c. g. said...

only sibling . . . that's a very good way to put it.

Lunafly said...

I agree that "only sibling" is the way to put it. Perhapse even the title of a memoir....

didi979 said...

Miranda:

You did it - you got mad at him - out-loud! Good for you. Although I have to say that I really do think that other people might try such a bone-headed move - for instance, I could see myself doing this move, particularly at Kyle's age.

I did a lot of even more bone-headed moves in my 20s. I climbed to the top of the San Francisco Triangle building with a young man I had only known for a couple of hours. We snuck in past the security guards, climbed to the top and then I sat down and started crying because I realized I had no idea who I was with, and it would be so easy for him to throw me off. I don't know, us ADD folks can really get ourselves into uncomfortable, dangerous situations. It's just how we are wired.

On the single child thing, boy do I get this. Being an only child does suck, and being an only sibling would suck more, because you probably keep thinking that you can just call him to talk about when your parents did something, or the dog or cat did something, or how crazy mom, dad, aunt or uncle somebody was . . . and then, he's not there for you! Fucker!!!! (Is that word allowed on the internet?)

All I can say is that you do have cousins, and mine have meant a great deal to me. And you also have dear old friends, who you get to choose to make your family. Even though they may not get a lot of the neighborhood memories, or the family memories - depending on their cousinhood or friendness - together, they do almost make a sibling - and they will be around into the future to have a drink and a joint with you and reminisce.

With love, hugs and kisses,
Aunt Di

Anonymous said...

sorry dude. thatz really sad. god bless ye... i hope u dont forget ur bro till end

Cat said...

And that one made me weep. I was once told by some shrink my college made me see after my sister's death that I was a 'surviving sibling' in response to saying I was now an only child. I like only sibling a lot better...