"More than a stunning debut. It is the announcement of a bold new literary voice"
—Stephen Chbosky, author of The Perks of Being a Wallflower

It’s been about five years since you’ve passed away. I remember always going to see you and mama. You’d answer the door in your green, red, and black flannel with a pair of your khaki pants. You would pick me up and swing me around because I was your little ballerina. I think of you an awful lot just because Mom works where Mama used to live. You’d be so sad if you saw the world today, no one is making changes but I’m kind of glad you don’t have to see this. You always hated politics and all those corrupt politicians but you never tell who you voted for. You have always meant a lot to me although I only saw you till I was 12. You always had the television set to PBS for Mama because she loved watching the most random things. Even though you didn’t get to see Mama in her last days, I did and man did she keep her love for Wheel of Fortune and Queen Latifah. It was late in the day sometime in the summer when my mom got a call. They said you were sick, and that’s not something I understood at the time. Me, Chris, Mom, Mama, and Grandma sat in the waiting room for days back and forth from the house to the hospital. I know you didn’t get to see me but I really wanted to see you, but unfortunately, at the hospital, you had to be at least 15 to visit where you were. Then you passed away, and I was heartbroken. I felt like I had lost so much even though we weren’t as close as you and Mom. On the day of your funeral everyone in the family made it support Mama so she wasn’t alone. From that day on she always believed you were with her, and I did too. I always admired your love for Mama and how much you helped her with doing everything. Even at 82 you still picked her up from her wheelchair and took her for UDF. As I was saying, Mama was never alone from that day on. I remember being in her room, Chris and I would hold her hands while she watched her shows. On her last day, Mom and grandma held her hands until we knew it was time. I think you’d be happy to know she was never alone. I always hoped you’d make it to my wedding and see me go off to high school. I hope you and Mama can make it to the big things. It’d mean a lot. I miss you like crazy Papa. I wish you were here.