I miss you. I remember when you died, that night I was in fourth grade. You had had a heart attack upstairs in your room at our old house. I was scared in my bed. I regret not praying. I blamed myself for a long time for that. I thought it was my fault that you’re dead, but it’s not. It was your time to leave. You didn’t suffer I hope.<\/p>\n
It’s been a long time since you’ve been gone. I’m in my last year of middle school. I never told you, but I was accepted into my dream school for the spanish immersion program for high school. I’m gonna be an interpreter and a missionary. I’m going to tell people about Jesus in every language and country I can. I hope you’re proud of me. I’ve come a long way. I’ve grown up a lot. There’s a boy now. We aren’t together, but you can tell there’s something between us. He has red hair and sky blue eyes. He’s sweet to me. And funny. He also fights for what he believes in. You’d like him. He got into the Spanish program with me as well. I wish you could meet him. I think I love him, Aunty. <\/p>\n
Your daughter misses you a lot. She’s suffered a lot these past few years. Made bad choices. But God brought us together again. I don’t call her my cousin anymore. She’s my sister now. The rest of us miss you too. We’re doing well.<\/p>\n
We sprinkled your ashes in the pond at camp. We hope it’s what you wanted. We know camp is your favorite place. It’s mine too. I can’t wait to go back this summer and be with you for a week. <\/p>\n
I miss you. I miss you a lot. I miss your sarcasm and your bold attitude. I miss hiding in your room when my parents fought. I miss your stories about our Native American tribe. I’ve started to raise my voice and fight like you, Aunty. I’m speaking out for equality now. I hope you’re proud. I know I’m doing the right thing. Missing you doesn’t hurt as much as it did. I know you’re in heaven with God and your mom and sister and husband. I know I’ll be there one day, too. <\/p>\n
I love you Aunty.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I miss you. I remember when you died, that night I was in fourth grade. You had had a heart attack upstairs in your room at our old house. I was scared in my bed. I regret not praying. I blamed myself for a long time for that. I thought it was my fault that […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":0,"featured_media":958,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-957","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-love-letters"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/957","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=957"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/957\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/958"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=957"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=957"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=957"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}