Dear Dan,
I sometimes wonder what you think about me now. This is never a fully-formed thought because I’m not particularly religious but I somehow hope we go somewhere nice after we die.
After you passed away, I booked a session with a medium I found on Yelp. She told me that you and Toño were together and that you both were so close that it almost felt like your energies were combined. She told me that you wanted me to know how thankful you were for what I did for you. She shared with me some things about you that she’d have no way of knowing. She said in heaven (note: I can’t actually remember if she used the word ‘heaven’), that you had a job. You were kind of like a greeter and that your job was to welcome people and show them around the place when they arrived. This delighted me.
We both worked in an industry with high suicide risk. After your death, many of our friends have since passed away. For those who do not have loved ones waiting on the other side, I like the idea of you waiting to greet them. I imagine you’re chatty and accommodating. I imagine Toño is with you and he is bouncy and excited. I can hear him playfully scolding you by saying “Dan-iel” whenever you get distracted mid-sentence.
From the great beyond, I wonder if you check-in on me from time to time. I sometimes hope you do, but then I feel selfish wanting you to say hi when there are infinitely better ways to spend your time now. I sometimes wonder if when you died, you suddenly knew everything about me. All the things that were said and unsaid. All of the places inside of me that aren’t so shiny or kind. I’m not sure why this stresses me out.
-K
