Dear Maya,

These old haunts of ours, they are still charged for me.  Browsing in the Himalayan store, hot chocolate at Bread Alone, udon at Yum Yum, chess upstairs at Joshua’s.  It is strange how you still roam this little village with me.  Today I walked Tinker Street with you in my heart.  Missing you as always, but I did smile, dear Maya.  I did smile with gratitude at the sweet memories, your fifteen year gift to me, our time together here and everywhere.  I did smile.  And of course the tears came too.  

Maya, I felt the pain again.  Your pain.  I thought about your pain, about how you chose to escape it, how you thought it was your only choice, how if you knew, only if you knew.  For a long time I wondered how I could ever understand your despair.  Now I understand, dear Maya, I understand the depths of it all.

The irony, of course, is that the pain you escaped, it still persists.  With me now, I carry your pain for you.  As do others who knew you, who loved you.  We all carry your pain now, and I know you would never have wanted that; if only you had known…

This sadness is your bequest to me, along with the sweet memories, the smiles, the laughter, you have left me bereft, broken, and yet able to love as I never could.  The love Maya, I know you felt that too.  And now I feel that as well. Such a gift.

How did you do that, my Maya?  How?

Love you and miss you,

Dad

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