Monday, September 26, 2011

Dear Rocco,

It's been three weeks since you've been gone. Alicia and I went to New Jersey and got married. I played a song for you in front of everyone, "Blood Brothers". I wanted to say some things about to everyone but couldn't, so I just started singing. It was hard to do and wasn't my best performance, kind of overtaken by emotions. We had a slideshow made up for the Wedding and you were in so many pictures. A copy of your book was there for people to read. My father told me he gave a copy of that book to his friend Ritchie, who is a lawyer. Ritchie leaves the book on his desk and says people love to look at it. Anyway.....
I read that first letter I wrote to you three weeks ago. There are some things I told you that are wrong. I told you Barney was too distracted to notice your deceased body. That may be true but your leaving has had as much an impact on him as it has Havana. It dawned on me that while Havana liked playing with him more than you he still liked playing with you more than her. You guys played every morning and night, sometimes tug, sometimes wrestle, and sometimes chase. He misses that and is almost as boring as Havana in the morning now. I hope he can grow to be as happy as you were some day. I want that for him.
The other thing I told you was that we were going to bury your ashes by the fig tree. I told the guy I didn't want an urn because I was burying your ashes, and just put them in a box. When I picked up the box it was very nice, with carvings and a name plate with "Rocco" written on it. It seemed too nice to bury. Then I thought about the coming rainy season and didn't like the idea of your ashes being out there in the cold and rain alone. I've been keeping the box on top of Havana's crate. I like that we are all together at night, just like before. I know this doesn't make sense. I've opened the box and seen and felt the ashes through the plastic bag. It's hard to believe that is all that is left of you. I can't bury the ashes now because I know this. When I die I want to be burned like you and I want your ashes spread over my body before I'm incinerated. This is as close as I can get to you physically. You know what comfort I get from death? It's knowing that I will meet that same fate as you, my Grandfather, and the rest of my family. The irrational part of me still hopes to meet you somewhere again. Coming home and looking through your pictures I sometimes freeze and can't take my eyes off you, I just stare. I touch your box of ashes and I put my fingers in the depressed paw print pads from the molding they took. I smelled your sweater today. I can still smell you on it, fading as it is. I'm just trying to connect with you somehow. I don't know how.
Okay, just felt like writing to you for a bit. I attached one of my favorite pictures of you to this letter. Until next time.

I love you

No comments:

Post a Comment