Open Letter To My Aunt (As Originally Written a While Back With a Postscript)

Since other people are going to read this and this is (G-d willing) get published (and even if it doesn’t, people will still read this), I’m not going to mention anything further than what I’ve mentioned on my blog, Twitter account, Ancestry.com family tree, etc….people can find all that out—after all, we as a family (at least on our side) have (or should have, as you’ve indicated, too) have—or at least should have—nothing to hide. I can only guess what I did to upset you and have you not respond to my e-mails and texts, not answer my calls, and not tell me that you were going to move—I figured it out when you disconnected both of your phone numbers and had the police in your city go to your house to see if you were okay (You know why; they know why, and I know why.)—you had me worried that something had happened.

So, I did as our ancestors would’ve done—and at times, did do—when we did something that they perceived as egregious enough to deserve death or cutting ties as though we were dead, or as though we never even existed in their eyes. I sat shiva. Shiva isn’t always about physical death—you know that by now, I’m sure. I saw that you may have read my blog entry, after all—I check my blog stats quite frequently. You really hurt me—I didn’t think that you were like a good amount of the rest of the family. Well, shame on you—and I’m still hurting the more that I think about it. And let me ask you this, too: would Great-Grandma—“I want to talk about it”—be proud of what you did—hid something, left me guessing, led me to sit shiva as her mother’s family surely would’ve done for her—perhaps even did for her maternal grandparents?

I hope that you read this letter—and I hope that the sitting shiva can be reversed—sitting shiva doesn’t have to be final for a person who’s still alive. You can always come back into my life—and I actually hope that you do, even if you just tell me if and/or how I wronged you, and to stay away from you.

Your niece

PS I don't know if you even can read this, to be honest. Kevin or Kayla may find it and try to read it to you. I heard from Dad that Kayla talked to you about visiting at the hospital, and you asked, "You were there?" I don't know if you'll even remember me, to be honest. I did see a few searches in my Feedjit a while back and wondered if they were by you or Kevin, and I can't be sure.

Every time I hear this song—or at least almost every time—at least of late—I think about you and/or the rest of the family to some extent, and I wonder if that's how you think of me and others. Do you even remember me? I even began thinking about this song, which I hadn't heard in a long time, in connection to you after I'd heard it again a few times—maybe I was even thinking about it in connection to you when I thought about it and heard it again for the first time in a long time.