Letter posted below here, for those of you who mentioned difficulty linking from the post.
Alo Ayiti,
Is it really you I’m talking to you? Long time cousin! Is it really you, the one I’ve been incessantly thinking about, now than ever before?! The one I’ve gotten frustrated over, worrying sick to my stomach about? The one that always makes my ears perk up the moment anyone utters a mention of you? Goodness, how long has it been?
I knooow, I didn’t call last week like I was supposed to. But what did you want me to do? Quit my job, tell my boss to stop his meeting because…. because my dear-loving-hardworking-pain-enduring-annoying-funny- brave-but-shy… stubborn-yet-gentle relative was desperately needing me now?
Whoosh! Only you can work me up like this. I’m crazy for my older cousin, crazy for this world, crazy for both of us surviving this never-ending, uncharted havoc storm of life.
Everything is upside, unfair, unjust, sharp, bitter, sweet, spicy, peppery, solid, quick, slow and it all makes me sick to my stomach! Sick of what you went through. And what I did to you… when we
weren’t friends, and what I didn’t do… when you needed a friend.
Ayiti, I’m just happy, just grateful that you’re here, okay? Good, God! I wanted to tell you this for a long time, but I didn’t really know how.
I always called you, with my $5 dollar calling cards speaking 20 minutes at a time to see how you were coping. And sending money faster than I could breathe when I could. But I never really got a chance to tell you something that’s been on my mind.
Look Ayiti, you’re strong I know. You’ve been through a lot, I know. Okay, maybe you know more than I
do. But you’ve taught me so much – I mean who else can go days without eating, being homeless, getting
bombarded by traumas so frequently, that every grain of sand could be the tears you’ve cried? Who else can
sing songs of heaven despite tears falling down? Who else can be prideful and sometimes sarcastic just to get
their point across?
But you’ve make me upset sometimes. I don’t understand why you played your games when I didn’t
want to play. And sometimes you’re soo stubborn when you’re set in your own ways.
So many times I’ve hope you’d be included in our circle of friends. That you would get to hang out with us, that you would get noticed. I always wanted you to get noticed, to belong – you know. Cause you’re family.
But for some reason, you seemed down on your luck, like you were cursed! You were always scraping your knee, falling down, or tripping. You bit your lip, eyes were blind, ears were deaf. But you still stood back up.
Even with all the blood stains on your shirt, you still showed up at the park waiting for your time to get in, to be included in this crazy game we played.
But lately, I wonder maybe you weren’t so down in your luck. Maybe I was too blind to see, too deaf to hear, and mute to respond to you trying to communicate with me. Maybe we didn’t get off on the right foot. I always talked too loudly, going off looking for the prize.
Maybe what I should’ve done was think of you first instead of last. Or listen to your thoughts instead of ignoring your cries. I don’t know. It’s been too long. I don’t even know where it began.
Listen, thank you for the cassava you sent the other day. And I hope you enjoyed the basmati rice I sent you. This story between the two of us is getting old, cuz and I don’t like where it’s headin’ cause it’s going in circles.
Look, the only thing I know, is that it’s about time you and I hung out and connected again. Maybe create a new story if you want. Cuz, I’m tired of people talking about you, like you’re not here.
Look, I hear there’s some cute guys that saved us some front row seats for their soccer final. They seemed to know you, cause they said make sure you sit on the seat labeled “Pearl of the Caribbean.” Cuz, you never told me you liked jewelry, I have a collection!
Well, talk you later
Your younger cousin, Misa.
(C) Rhumestone Publishing 2012
