Writing Workshop: A Letter to My Loved One

On Tuesday, October 19, 6:00–8:00 p.m. via Zoom, Transitions GriefCare invites you to participate in “Writing Workshop: A Letter to My Loved One.” Writing can be a tool for connecting and healing, for reflecting on the experience of grief, and for acknowledging what is lost while also affirming all that endures. This workshop will provide prompts and musings for participants to employ as they compose a letter to their loved one. No writing experience is necessary and sharing of writing is optional. At the conclusion of the workshop, participants will have the opportunity to schedule a time to release their letter at the Cosmic Post, which is on the grounds of Transitions LifeCare (250 Hospice Circle, Raleigh).

September 10, 2019

One year later…

Dear Steve,

So as I arrive at one year, with grief as a constant in my life now, I am very aware of how profound this loss is. It’s much more vivid, much richer and it is unavoidable what’s gone. I’m here and you’re not. We we’re supposed to be a team on this journey together. You had my back and I had yours. I miss that. A year ago, I asked you if you were scared. You told me “I’ve never had to die before.” I took that as a yes.

This year I want to ask if you’re happy and calm, and if you miss me like I miss you. I remember saying to God that I’d settle for a 10-minute conversation with you once a year, and I would hold my breath until that time came each year. But I can’t – I have to keep breathing. I have come to realize I am still me, still on MY life journey. I realized some months ago that I am solo again, like I always used to be. But what’s different now IS ME. I have changed so much from this experience in my life. I have opened my eyes to life and death, and I am different now.

Through all of the grief, the tears, and the pain I have grown. I am much more sensitive to the world. I feel others’ pain with them now, on a much deeper level. I have taken on new friends, many on the same journey of grief as me. I have removed myself from certain unhealthy relationships and embraced new, more positive ones. I am learning to select what is right for me, and not to second guess it. My tears are warmer now, just as I have read in grief books. I don’t cry out loud anymore, I weep quietly to myself.

Among the best of the changes is I have subconsciously adopted many of your ways. I find myself owning many of your sayings and gestures as if they are all mine now. Best of all is at this year mark, I realize the greatest  gift is that I was witness to, and am now in honor of, your Brave heart; how you handled your death journey with such dignity, and how you shared your beautifully real transition experience with me.

Finally, and most surprisingly, is with the absence of your physical presence in my life, I now see you and what you stood for more clearly, and I believe I love you more completely.

–by Mike Richmond

Mike and Steve were partners in life for 12 years. Because Steve was adopted and had no “family of heritage” and was estranged from his adoptive family, Mike and his sister were Steve’s family, and this letter honors Steve as only family can.