I don't know if you remember us at all.
As you were nine when we left, I think we would have left some mark in your memory. Then again, I was 21, and even I had forgotten the name of our roommate from the year we lived in your apartment building. Her name, but never yours.
It's funny to think that after the impact you had on us, the way your family has forever touched our lives, that you may not even remember us. That possibly we were just one in a series of ever-changing set of tenants next door, easily replaced, easily forgotten.
If you do remember us, I wonder if you are angry. Your were certainly angry with us when we left so suddenly. Angry with the way we handled your outbursts. Angry with the way we upset your family. I worry we caused you more trouble than we helped. I'm even angry at the way we handled things as the end. I work at forgiving myself, reminding myself that at 21, one prides herself by thinking she knows the answer to everything. One day, you will too. Then maybe, if you ever read this, you might understand our mistakes.
I can't believe that you are going to be 16 next month! I've seen some of your Facebook pictures. The child we left behind has grown into a beautiful young woman, with the same blue eyes, sweet grin, and goofy attitude I remember. I think of you from time to time and check to see if you've updated, and it never fails to bring a smile to my face to see you and your friends cheesing at the camera. I search your albums and try to find the answers to my questions: Are you safe? Are you happy? Are you loved?
I've learned that you've lost your sweet Nana, and I grieve for your loss. I don't have to tell you, that a kinder soul as never walked the Earth, and I know that she was the Rock in your short yet turbulent life. We are so grateful to her for her warmth, her love and her acceptance. She was like family to us during our time with you both. We miss her, and I'm so sorry that we won't be seeing her again this side of heaven. She loved everyone she met, but even she admitted, her bond with you was special. I know she's watching over you now with pride.
And knowing now that she has passed, my worries only grow in intensity. Sometimes they keep me up at night. I have so many questions I wish I could answer, but none above these: Are you safe? Are you happy? Are you loved?
Are you?
