dear Caroline
“dear Caroline” is based off a collection of Notes taken on my iPhone during my time in New York. in March of this year, call it divine providence fell in my lap, and via one of my most-used and favorite self-expressive apps, I found the opportunity to “sublet” in an astounding art studio in Brooklyn, NYC for just under a month. I lived in that space, cried in that space, wrote, worried, and made attempts to nurture the tired, lonely soul that dared to get on that plane, by herself — dared, to venture into NYC for a month, by herself. but it was the hands and memories, cherished moments in that city, that led me — by her smooth fingers, Caroline pulled me to the city. since I was 13, a place I always wanted to go (but alas, Caroline went first. ;)) remember when I threw a near-tantrum, caroline, because it wasn’t me going? well — come college graduation, come severe, life-impacting events (m, m, d, work, work) — a seattle house, a seattle home, the lot. i embarked. and as I crept, timidly, around that city — acknowledging every eye on me — it was as if i left my body and you encapsulated it.
dear Caroline: my heart swells reflecting on my not-so-long-ago moments in NYC, as almost every cranny makes me think of you. which subway trains did you take; which subway poems did you read on your commutes? what did you miss that you wanted to see? what daydreams and places did you put yourself in, were you seeing yourself inside of Julliard with musical peers, or drawing in central park? surely something you were imagining where your body sat, resided: maybe a dingy (but affordable) apartment building where occasionally the ground rattled beneath you from deep-down train stations, or cigarette smoke wafted from open-windows and puffed-lips. i’m sure you were a dreamer, in the romantic city. i know i was obsessed with gazing (longingly? probably) at the NYC couples, their long coats and pretty hair.
dear Caroline. this is for you. for you are kept “alive” by the string of our words and the sound of our voice. what constitutes the living? is it simply what’s remembered? if you’re remembered, are you living?
begin: iPhone notes to “dear Caroline”.
PS: mama did fly out for my birthday. I don’t think I could’ve made it without her.
dear caroline, I am here. 4/3/21 at 7:21PM
dear Caroline,
I haven’t forgotten about you. In fact, sometimes I feel like you. I felt like we had a connection, since I was young, and as I grow up, I grow more and more to resemble you. mom says this too; maddie, also (which really means it must be true, considering she spent so much time with you during your last few years). I love you sibling & I feel your bond: I feel our connection. I just want to hold your hand again: I have long fingers, like you. and I can be tan, like you. bright eyes, dark hair, like you. I can’t wait to see your college, where you used to roam. what a gift this is: to be in a place I know you fell in love with, and wish you had moved to. I am privileged to see something that brought you such joy. Because it was a privilege to know you, and to be a part of your own flesh and blood — you didn’t realize how precious you were to this earth; how precious you could have been to the people you never met. You walked these grounds with humility and earnestness, sound judgement & positive moral, with justice and necessary correction to shortcomings of others who weren’t doing or saying the right thing. Wise beyond your years: maybe you reincarnated from some steady shaman, because you knew the way to love people was to let them live how they felt best to live; there was not an incorrect bone in your body. Save, the one who did not understand your own worth: and this, Caroline, is perhaps the most dangerous to the soul.
I have not, will not, ever forget you. Lead me, & I will close my eyes like a trust exercise & you pull me towards the positive path. For your guidance I want to follow. Let my eyes see what yours no longer can. But see it through my own. And always, keep a tight grasp on my fingers. In present I will hold this imaginarily, but in future, I will hold it, authentically/non-fictitiously. don’t let go. slender fingers, dimpled smile. take me until it’s time to feel that embrace again.
what my eyes see, may yours see, also. 4/7/21 at 2:28AM.
dead man walking
sometimes, when you have lost so much, it feels like you may as well be dead.
but the point is to learn how to keep living, even in the midst of the pain.
this is how I have learned how, so far.
it is true that sometimes I don’t feel like I am fully alive, fully present in this world. because with every loss I have experienced, it has taken another chunk out of me, and pretty soon what seems left is a shell of who once was. it is a hollowy-shell, trying to consume to be filled with what will make her feel “normal” or from “this world” again, but it usually never works.
dear caroline,
I just want somebody to talk to me on the phone the whole night/stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep. like have a friend like lukas in one tree hill. I resonate with Peyton’s character so much 4/10/21
dear Caroline,
I’m waiting at the subway station on 9th avenue in Brooklyn, the first subway station I’ve been to that is outdoors underneath a shelter, & I’m grateful too because it’s drizzling outside. it feels like a Miyazaki movie out here, the way there is a straight and consistent flow of rain water trailing off the subway shelters, the water droplets dampening the garbage on the tracks, the people speaking different languages. today felt like a Miyazaki day, maybe, me, in a cafe, staring out the window at the rain, while couples ate around me. it’s been a pretty day, and I’m grateful for it. a handsome man in a long blue coat just walked down the steps. 4/11/21
dear Caroline, I wish I could tell dad and m that I’m here. I walked through the dinosaur exhibits at the American museum of natural history in New York and thought of maddie.
Dear Caroline,
It’s my 23rd birthday today. and it doesn’t matter where you are — New York City, or Rome, or Paris. On an island stranded at sea. In a beach house. No paradise, no “perfect escape” can make us/me escape from that feeling that it’s hard, it’s lacking, it’s unsettling, it is not right. My birthday sucks. And I hate it. And I miss my siblings, and I miss my family. And it will continue to be hard. And I can pretend it’s okay. But it’s not okay. It’s not okay, even in New York. It’s just not. I love you. And I miss you. And continuing to grow and have these hallmarks without you, will never, get easier. Ever.
dear Caroline,
I think yesterday was my first birthday not hearing from dad. It was hard. I also missed you like hell.
dear Caroline,
Elton John’s rocket man was playing, with the lyrics “I think it’s gonna be a long long time” repeating itself; gave me an instinct that he was telling me, it will be a long long time before I am back to New York. I had a feeling it meant that. I’m at the LaGuardia airport now; there was a fountain dancing to music when I walked in, and there are fake (?) plants in the seating area I’m in. Definitely feels different than Denver. While waiting in line for coffee I was trying to process what people in Colorado are like, as compared to New York, trying to assess if I could notice a difference in culture and temperament, and I think I could. I think people in Denver are really fun and easy going and really seem to enjoy life; I wonder why I get that feeling. People are nice here too though. Just maybe less relaxed. Either way, I think it’s going to be a “long long time” before I am here again. Goodbye New York, hopefully just for now. You were truly, magical.
dear caroline, I hope you are proud of me. though it was irreplaceable, i still would have much rather been in the big nyc with you. sometimes, these big hallmark-moments are getting harder to do, because they almost seem so significant and grandiose and special that it hits harder that the people i want to be doing them with are not with me. maybe it is easier to sit inside and watch shows all day; because at least then it doesn’t feel like you’re missing anything, i wouldn’t feel as restless that you’re missing those major milestones with me. maybe it was purposeful my college graduation is cancelled: my eyes won’t search for you, nor Jay, in the crowd.
dear caroline. you meant everything to me: don’t let m make it seem like you did not. there was so much more you had left to see. and i am trying to see it too but it’s getting hard, not wishing you were with me, or at least a phone call away so i could tell you what i saw. it’s getting harder. i wonder if it will ever get easier?
end: dear caroline. I went to New York City, and I thought of you the whole time.
