Jehovah's Witnesses & the congregation

 I was raised as a JW. Was an active part of the congregation till about 2010. And boy do I have opinions about it.

There were so many rules to follow. It was very strict but depending on each families individual beliefs, it could be even more strict. (I knew a family who wouldn't let their kids watch the movie All Dogs Go To Heaven because it had to do with spirits) One common rule was not to have friends in school because they were "worldly" and bad associations. Anyone not in the kingdom hall was a bad association. We were warned not do do extra curricular things so as to not be "unevenly yolked with the world.

I was taught from a young age to care what everyone thought. Often being told "how would that make Jehovah look?" "What would the elders think?" I still have problems to this day caring too much about what everyone else thinks. 

I got in trouble for the dumbest things. I was taken to "the little room" to talk to the elders when I was a teen because I had a friend in high school who was a boy. I felt like I was being interrogated. It wasn't anything more than a literal friend in school. That interaction with the elders honestly left me traumatized.

As a young adult I got in trouble again. A group of us got together to go bowling. In this group was my boyfriend at the time (who later became my first husband). Since a large group got together we all met up at my boyfriends house where he and another friend lived and decided to leave our cars there and carpool in fewer cars. I got scolded that it looked bad that I left my car at my boyfriends house and that it could be interpreted as me being alone with him in his apartment. Yeah. I still cant believe that happened.

I followed all the rules the church had for me. It was a full time job. I attended 5 meetings a week. Prepared ahead of time for each of the meetings. Was part of the theocratic ministry school where we had to frequently present skits of us having a bible study. I did this all while being in school with all my assignments and even while working full time.

I eventually got married just the way the church wanted. Married the brother I was dating. He was in good standing and came highly recommended.(Let's not forget the fact that not one person warned me about his father who they all knew. He was disfellowshipped many times, had a history of violence, been in and out of prison and even raped a 80 yr old woman. No one thought to even tell me what was attached to my husband.. good looking out) We had a short engagement just as the congregation suggested. After we got married we both pioneered which meant we had to put a ton of hours in for service. I did this while working full time. I would start early morning service before work, I even witnessed during my lunch at again after work. I did 10 hour weekends just to be able to put my time in. I was exhausted but I did it because its what was expected and I wanted to be accepted. I was never truly happy. Because no matter what I did it was still never enough for the congregation. Eventually all the long hours and stress took a toll. I had to stop pioneering. I was approached and told that even though I had contributed to the kingdom hall with my service for nearly a year I would have to be uninvited from the upcoming pioneer picnic because I wouldn't be a pioneer at the time it was being held. And don't forget that the elders had to make an announcement on stage before the entire congregation that I was no longer a pioneer. Nothing like a little public shame and humiliation. Although I did nothing wrong and it wasn't technically scolding... its just public announcement of ones position in the congregation. And this was a step down.

Fast forward to my first husband leaving me while pregnant and stealing our entire savings from me and leaving me desolate... among other things. I desperately wanted some sort of justice after he did what he did. The congregation wasn't giving it to me. He was still a ministerial servant and still had not had any sort of announcement that he was not in good standing. I had to blackmail him to get that sort of justice. I told him I would not sign the divorce papers until he spoke to the elders. He eventually did and he was disfellowshipped. But that would not have happened if it wasn't for my own efforts. 

Fast forward to January 2012. My sister was going to get married to her baby daddy. Something that had been in the works since she became a teen mom. It was an abomination in the church that a teen got pregnant out of wedlock. Somehow she wasn't disfellowshipped. I honestly think it was due to my moms fragile mental health. With so many attempted suicides I think they knew would attempt again. So my sister got a slap on the wrist. By the time the wedding was planned her son would be around 18 months old. She was pressured the whole time by the church to get married and she finally started the planning. I want to say about a week before the wedding the congregation reached out to my parents and told them that everyone from the church who attended my sisters wedding would get reprimanded because she was marring a non believer. This was because despite attending meetings his whole life her soon to be husband was never baptized. So in order to not call off the entire wedding my sister and her baby daddy had to go to a ghetto hole in the wall wedding chapel and legally get married before her actual wedding. I saw what that did to my sister. What should have been a happy time was not. She was so sad to be in this disgusting place getting married. She even wore black to this legal wedding. It was absolutely horrible. We both cried at how awful this was. It was at this moment that the straw broke the camels back and I saw that this was not for me anymore.

I eventually stopped attending church. I still had my own relationship with god as I still do today. I have found such peace and joy in how that relationship is today. It finally feels right. I still believe many of the same beliefs as what I was taught growing up. But clearly I don't follow all the rules they do. Thus why I no longer call myself a JW. Through the years I have had family both immediate and distant encourage me to come back to the congregation. Saying things like Jehovah doesn't forget his lost sheep. I AM NOT LOST. These same people hold my idiot brother in high esteem simply for the fact that he is an elder in his congregation despite all the shit he has done and continues to do.

Recently when my dad passed and we were planning the memorial my mom asked me to write a eulogy for his service from us kids. In the week leading up to the memorial I was under such stress and emotional distress. There was a going back and forth about if I would be allowed to speak during the service. If it would be played as a recording. If it would be during the service or after. First, it was brought to my moms attention that I was not in "exemplary standing" in the kingdom hall. And that apparently has weight as to if I am worthy or not enough to say my last words after my dads death. FUCK YOU. Then was the question if it would even be appropriate for me to stand at the podium and address the congregation because I am a woman and women dont have those rights in the hall. So then the idea of me standing off to the side or even sitting in the audience with a mic was brought up. The elders in my moms congregation told her it was up to her and her discretion. But my cousin who is an elder was asked by my mother to do the talk and he was the one who really fought tooth and nail to not have me do it. At first he said we would have the service and then the prayer and when it was done for me to include it. Not having it part of the actual service is insane and insulting. We had to fight to have it during the service BEFORE any closing prayer and song. And the compromise that he agreed to was playing a recording I made after his talk and before the end of the service. During this back and forth conversation with him and my mom she said she hated the judgment from the hall about my standing in order to be part of my dads service, this will be relevant later. At the end of the day it worked out because I probably wouldn't have been able to get through it if I had tried to read it in person.

More recently. After my dad's passing my mom has been trying to figure out her finances and after many calls it seems she cannot afford to stay in her home. I scheduled a phone call with she and I and a financial advisor friend of hers from her hall. During the call we were discussing housing options and my mom was crying and said something along the lines of "I serve god and I cannot see myself living with family who isn't serving god." She meant me. In the years my dad was in hospice my mom and I talked many times about what the plan will be once pop dies. No plans were ever solidified, and they still aren't, but she made it clear that I was the only option. So to hear this was just so disgusting to hear especially on the heels of her telling the brothers she hated the judgements against me during the planning of pops service. And yet here she is doing the same thing. And by the end of the conversation she once again said I was the only one she felt comfortable with. I honestly feel sick to my stomach about it. I'll never be good enough despite being the only one of her children that doesn't want her money. She trusted me with that so much that she made me her POA and I have access to all her funds. I have never taken advantage of her. I have been the only child of hers to always look out for her. I help her pay her bills, get her medications. Contact her regularly to make sure she's ok. In the recent fires in Eaton Canyon I offered all the time to evacuate her. Driving through not one but two active burning fires to get to her. I made sure my kids had a relationship with her and my dad. But no... its still not worth anything because I chose to separate myself from a church that brought me no happiness. I followed their rules to not only continue being judged just to be told its still not good enough, but also to have a horrendous first marriage where everything in my life went to shit.

All that to say: I will never attend another meeting of JW again. I will never be an active member according to their standards. I will continue to have a relationship with Jehovah in the way that feels the most authentic and joyful for me. I continue to confide in him in the way I need. My relationship with god is between me and him and no one else. I am the happiest I have ever been in my life. I hope one day you can be happy for me too. Please stop telling me to come back to meetings. It is never going to happen. Take a real lesson out of the bible about not judging. I will never tell you to not serve god the way you want. I will never tell you I don't agree with what you are doing. I will never discourage you from doing what you want. Why don't you extend that same courtesy to me. That's the true christian thing to do. Because honestly was I feel is summed up into this: THERE IS NO HATE LIKE CHRISTIAN LOVE.

Stefan

 You have always been the sibling I was closest too. My best friend and in a way a kind of soulmate.

That all changed when you met Joey. I forget what year it was. 2018?2019? It was a new relationship and I had just been told about him and I was very excited to meet him. Only that would never happen. I could write a whole novel about it but the short version is that Joey over time took you away from friends and family and left you isolated. He somehow brainwashed you in a way that I can only describe as some sort of stockholm syndrome. He didn't let you communicate with me for over a year. It was probably closer to a year and a half. And though we are now in communication and have a relationship, it's still not the same as before Joey. I don't think it'll ever go back to that. 

When you and Joey did breakup you ended up moving back in with Mom and Pop for a time. And this was in the midst of the pandemic. You worked in the healthcare field and actually got covid and brought it home with you. I was so scared that this was what was going to kill our parents. It was an act of god that they didn't catch it. You had already exposed them and yet they stayed safe. I hated that you risked their health/lives but also I understand that it was out of your control. So I can't really hold that against you but also I didn't like it. While you were staying there, you had asked many times if Mom or Pop could help you consolidate you debt and cosign a loan so you can do that. They both said no. You were really irresponsible with finances. But also a recent DUI fucked you over too. So you were in a bad place and I understand asking for help. 

What I didn't appreciate was what you did after they said no. You took matters into your own hands. They trusted you living with them. And you took full advantage. I hate to say it but you are the definition of "hurt people, hurt people." I know their inability to accept you for who you are as a gay man has cause trauma to your core. I will never forgive them for kicking you out when you came out and you were living out of your car for a time. That was deplorable. But you have now grown into the mentality that now you will hurt them for hurting you and you have no remorse about it. You have even told me you would do it again. What is it that you did? Well, while you were living there you had and took access of all their financial information. You got their checking account numbers and routing numbers. You got debit and credit card info. You even got a hold of our dads social security number. You committed fraud using all their bank info to buy whatever you wanted. You racked up over $10k in fraud. You would have kept going if I hadn't stopped the cards and closed the accounts. You even took our dads social to apply for a credit card so that you could still do your consolidation plan. YOU EVEN HAD IT MAILED TO YOUR NEW ADDRESS AFTER YOU MOVED OUT. You are so lucky that mom never reported you to the bank or to the authorities. What you did was a FELONY. I have tried to talk to you about this many times and you have always doubled down. I am disgusted and heartbroken that this is who you are now. It is ugly.

Then last year you hurt me yet again. You did us the favor of watching the kids for us while we went to Hawaii on our first vacation ever together as a couple. It was a gift you were able to do this and I will be always grateful that you did us this favor so that we could go. However that doesn't give you the right to do whatever you want. First I paid you to watch them. I insisted on it. I did not take advantage like so many in our family do. Second, it came out months after our trip that you allowed the kids to watch a horror film. It was rated R. And our youngest who was 7 at the time had nightmares for weeks after. When I asked if you did this you said yes and double downed again saying you didn't agree with how I raise my kids and that since you were in charge you were going to do what you felt was right. Look, this isnt giving kids sugar when I have asked you to not... and this is a thing you have done too. There are so many reason why I say to not but its not about the rule, its about respect. At the end of the day these are my kids not yours. Doing me a favor doesn't mean disrespecting me or my boundaries. It doesn't mean you get to do whatever you want. I made it very clear after that, that there are rules. The beautiful thing about them is that you don't have to agree. I will never ask you to agree or see things the way I do. Go be your own person with your own beliefs. But you will respect them especially with my kids IN MY HOME. I also made it clear that I will not keep you away from the kids as they love you dearly. But I will expect my rules to be upheld. So if you cant or wont respect them, then it is YOUR choice to not be in my kids life.

Im just so sad with everything we have been through especially in the last 6 years. I don't know what the future holds but I hope you find happiness and peace one day. I have always looked out for you and wanted the best for you. Lord knows I have tried to "save" you through the years. And you were the one who taught me that not everyone wants to be saved. It's been hard watching you go through all the heartbreak and devastation you have gone through in your life. 

Dear Michael

This letter has been a long time coming. 

I saw you this last weekend for the first time in like 8-9 (2015-2016) years. The last time I saw you, you forged up fake eviction papers with our parents names on it evicting my entire family from the duplex they had us living in.

Before that, there was a brief run-in in 2012 after Pop's drowning incident at the hospital when you made a quick obligatory appearance. 

Before that, there was a brief social encounter at a family members baby shower back in around 2010.

And the only other memories I have of you were us growing up together dating from high school back to middle school. I don't really recall elementary with you. But those middle and high school memories were awful. I constantly had to defend you from bullies who would call you gay (back then it was more insulting and I was still a bit brainwashed from the church). I do however vividly remember you slapping me across my face in high school right in front of my dad who didn't stick up for me or protect me (a common theme from our family). 

****

Let's take a step back. And travel back in time. Let's go back to when we were kids. You had an obsession with money and material items. You were and are easily the most materialistic person I have ever met in my life. You looked up to our family in Fresno (Diaz family) so much because you believed they had more money than us and they seemed to have a much more lavish lifestyle than us. I don't know if that was factually true, but you believed it and Im sure you still do. You always spoke of money and fashion. You would constantly critique me in the way that I looked and the way that I dressed. Making comments all the time about my body and my appearance. You told me my entire childhood and even into my early adulthood how ugly I was and that I looked like a man. That no one would ever look twice at me. Primarily because of you, I had the worst self esteem ever. I still struggle with the effects you had on me to this day. 

I remember an instance where you told me my eyebrows were so disgusting that I needed to pluck them. I went into the bathroom and plucked. When I came out you told me I needed to do more. Each time I came back out you told me it wasn't enough. By the time I was done my eyebrows were so wrecked and I looked absolutely terrible. I don't know why I ever listened to you. 

When we got old enough to start dating you would try to pawn me off to anyone. Telling everyone that I needed all the help I could get to get a guy. One time you set me up with a guy who ended up trying to assault me during a movie date. I immediately stopped talking to him and he ended up stalking me for years after that. He even continued when he moved to Alaska. I never understood why you felt the need to do this. You always did love to play match maker.. you did the same with our sister which I will elaborate on later. Brothers are supposed to be protectors. You often see them in the movies of shows talking to people that their sisters are dating saying something along the lines of "you break her heart, I'll break your legs." You know, protective stuff. And here you were feeding me to the lions. Wtf is wrong with you.

Skipping ahead to maybe 2007ish you started secretly taking our sister to have dates with your best friends (at the time) brother. Our parents were very much against dating for recreation and especially so young. But you made it seem like you were just hanging out with your sister but instead facilitating these secret dates. This went on for years. You then moved up north of course to be closer to the "rich family" when you started your new chapter with your new wife. Then roughly 2009ish. I recall you were in town visiting. I can clearly remember that we all made plans to meet up for lunch at a Cuban restaurant in Glendale, CA. While sitting at the table catching up, you whispered across the table to our then approx 15-16 year old sister. You asked if she was still seeing the boy you had been taking her on secret dates with. She said yes and you nodded in agreement saying "good". By the time she was 17 she ended up getting pregnant. You made it a point to call my mom and to tell her she raised a whore. I was there when you called and she had you on speakerphone. I heard the whole conversation. You then went on to tell her that she would never have a relationship with your future kids. And you held on to that promise. 

The years rolled by and you rarely ever visited them. There was that one time you showed up to a yard sale and thats when you wrote up those fake eviction papers. In that same visit you also tried to swindle my parents out of their house and to put your name on the deed or some paperwork. Im not even sure now of the exact paperwork but it could have even been you trying to be a POA or beneficiary. At the end of the day it doesn't matter what you were trying to do specifically. You were trying to take advantage of our parents financially (which is a common theme for all my siblings. See my posts to my other siblings for that story.)It was also at this visit you tried to persuade my children to watch your religious propaganda knowing I would be against it.

Through the years your kids never really got to know their grandparents. But still they had more interaction than any of us as their aunts and uncles. And speaking of your kids... my very first interaction with you and your first child was shortly after my first child died. I was on the way home from the hospital and you had the nerve to call me before I even made it home to announce that you and your wife were expecting. Fuck you.

****

Fast forward to last month when our dad was actively dying. You had not been involved with them for years. You decided to show up and throw some money around and get my mom a new bed since she had to get rid of hers to make room for Pop's new hospital bed. Thats all you ever do. Is make money the most important thing to make it look like you give a shit. That wasn't even the worst part. Pop took a turn with his health on 11/20/2024. I was told you visited, just you, on Friday 11/22/2024. Im told you showed up and walked to his bedside and said "hello" and that was it. There was no care for him at all. No tears or sadness. You showed up just to say you did. You didn't even talk to him. The next day 11/23/2024 I showed up with my family. The rest of us siblings were there, thank goodness you weren't there to fuck it up for us. We all were sobbing and crying the entire visit. We stayed for hours. We wrote notes to him and told him all the things our heart wanted to say. We took photos and videos knowing it would be the last time. That last visit will never be long enough. It was the last day he was able to talk. You were there when he was able to talk too and you didn't give a single fuck. The next day 11/24/2024 you showed up again this time with your wife and kids and once again none of you said shit to Pop. You just showed up to say you were there. I will never forgive you for that.

And all this time you have been an elder in your congregation claiming to Shepard your people. GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE. You are what the church calls a wolf in sheep's clothing. 

****

All that to say: My brother died in high school. I picked high school as the time of death because in our high school yearbook you decided to change your name from Michael Sherman, to Michael Sherman-Diaz. That's right. You hyphenated your last name to reflect the last name of our "rich family". You wanted so badly to be one of them. I hope it was all worth it to you. I don't like to use the word hate often but honestly Michael, I hate you. I want nothing to do with you. I want you to stay the fuck away from my family. When I die, if you are still alive, I don't want you to show up to my service. There are specific instructions to turn you away if you even dare show up. I have no brother. The only thing I have left to say to you is: GET FUCKED.

Crystal

I feel like there is so much that stems back to childhood and yet that time of my life is almost a blur that I cannot even recount too many specific memories. I will say that we have never really gotten along. There was always conflict from the start. As you got older you simply grew up to be a very different person that who I was. We were completely different in every way one could be. Not just in personalities but interests, style, music... all the ways. There just wasn't ever much to relate to each other. And thats ok.

I think the bottom line is we don't have to have a relationship with people just because they are family. We owe nothing to anyone. Im learning that more and more as I get older.

Through the years we have had different falling outs. Most if not all was fueled through our mother...who has the odd habit of turning her children all against each other by talking shit about one to the other. Despite the falling outs we would always find a way to eventually come back together and once again have some sort of relationship and still connect on social medias.

That all came to another halt with yet another falling out back in August of 2023. You were taking great advantage of our parents even while Pop was on hospice. You would leave your children for weeks at a time for our elderly mother to care for, feed and take to and from school while she was killing herself caring for our dying father. Mom would have to do laundry daily for the boys because you refused to buy them more than one school uniform. It was so much work that she actually asked me to buy them a few more pairs of clothes for her so that she didn't have to work so hard. And what did you do? You actually got mad and made her return it. Not only were you taking advantage of our parents but you were, and honestly probably still are, failing your own kids. I had enough and told you to stop taking advantage of them. My mom had called me numerous times to tell me how much this was affecting her. Her mental health was deteriorating. And with her known history of suicide attempts, this was just another attempt waiting to happen. You couldn't take being called out and that started the last falling out. You blocked my number. At that point that was the straw that broke the camels back for me. I then proceeded to block you on everything else that we were connected on. I asked my mom to no longer tell me anything regarding you as I want nothing to do with it. 

1 year, 3 months, 3 weeks and 1 day. Thats the amount of time that went by without you in my life before we crossed paths again and actually interacted when we were saying goodbye to our dad. As we were leaving you said something to the effect of, "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye with things, but maybe when this is all done and things settle we can talk and maybe move forward with our relationship." Not going to lie, there is a pressure that exists that we are supposed to make it work with family or something. But I have learned we don't owe anything to anyone. Being that my mom was there and I didn't want her to get upset or anything I simply said, "I don't know, we will see." Over the next week and change up till now, my sister has been in contact in one way or another. Either I call my mom and she answers and passes on info about my dad. Or my brother is the middle man passing on info between us... because I still refuse to unblock her. 

Before my dad died, my brother and I had already made Thanksgiving plans. He was going to come over. With the sudden change with my dad's health I double checked to see if we were still going to meet up. He said it was up to me but that probably now more than ever we should lean on family. So we decided to still meet up regardless. As things would play out, he passed the day before. On his way up here he stopped at my moms to see how she was doing. He extended the invite to her and asked her to come over too. Im glad he did. She needed to get out of the house. What I am not glad for is that my brother extended the invite to my sister and her family too. And they actually accepted. I think I let it happen like this more for my mom but it wasn't something I would have wanted to happen. While she was here she was talking more with me and sort of gave the vibe that she was trying to make amends. Idk if it took for my dad to die for her to see what was important but honestly I don't care. Whatever she is feeling is hers to deal with. In the moment though I shared with her my recent cancer diagnosis. She seemed shocked and concerned. I didn't tell her because I wanted to fix things. I think I told her to put in perspective to her what is really important. But also sometimes we see what is important too late.

Ive really been sitting with this and have talked about it with my therapist countless times and my conclusion hasn't changed. That 1 year, 3 months, 3 weeks and 1 day I have had peace without her in my life. That speaks volumes. Im in a stage in life where I want peace. I don't have the capacity for drama. Negativity. I only allow things into my life and space that enhance my life. If you're not enriching my life, encouraging me, helping me grow or positively impacting me I don't have space for you. Likewise I don't have space for stagnant people weighing me down. This isn't the first or second or even third time my sister has cut me out of her life... it will be the last though because Im done with this and I don't want her in mine. So I have no intention of having a relationship with her ever again. I have to do what's right for me. And that's having peace. 

Rest in peace Pop

 My dad died last week. Wednesday November 27th, 2024 at 3:22pm to be exact. It also happened to be my youngest daugter's birthday. The following day, Thanksgiving Day, also happened to be the anniversary of me finding out I was pregnant with Genesis (my stillborn daughter). An emotional week to say the least.

This blog was meant for what the title suggests... things I never got to say. But this post is a little different. I wanted to talk about Pop. 

Me, my kids and my husband all made the trip to say our goodbyes to Pop on Saturday November 23rd. We got the call the previous Wednesday that Pop's health took a turn and this was probably going to be it, as he had already been on hospice care for 2 years. This was the hardest visit ever. Knowing it would be the last time we saw him. My kids each wrote letters to him saying goodbye. Some even drawing photos.

Only my son was able to choke out his own letter and the rest of my kids asked me to read it for them. Losing my dad has been difficult to say the least, but witnessing my children grieve along side me over their grandpa has been an additional heartbreak to witness. 

Then it came time for me to say my goodbyes. I pictured this moment a thousand times and thought I would know what I would say and when the moment came, I was left almost speechless not knowing where to even start. I thanked him for doing his best as a father. I thanked him for giving us the life he and my mom did. We grew up so privileged. Told him I do not take for granted what he provided. I thanked him for helping me through the years. For being there. Then our conversation sort of turned to the past when I was a child. I was a big soccer player and we talked about how he was my biggest cheerleader. At this visit my dad was awake and talking and responding. It was such a gift to be able to have these last conversations. He reminisced about all the thing he could buy for a penny when he was a child. Despite my moms claims, I do not believe he had alzheimer's. He knew that Thanksgiving was next week. When he saw my husband he asked him if he still worked for the NBA player and of course Marlon said yes. They got to talking about sports. And my dad was fondly recounting how the Dodgers won the world series and spoke about his favorite pitcher. I told my dad, "Dont forget how much we love you." He replied, "I wont forget."

By this visit we were told that he could not keep any food down. His last meal was the Wednesday before. And by meal I mean a couple of spoonfulls of mashed potatoes and some ice cream, his favorite. While I was there he was still asking for mashed potatoes but I was told he couldnt eat anything. He would either choke on it or immediately through it up. Right now it was about comfort measures. He was asked frequently if he was in pain and he said no. At one point he asked for a drink. He specifically asked for soda, he loved sugary junk food. I was expecting to see him sip it from a cup. But instead my sister got a tiny cup which I often see used for mouthwash. There was a tiny amount of soda in it. She dipped an oral sponge on it... it looked like a cylindrical sponge at the end of a stick. She let it soak up the soda, then squeezed the majority out. My dad would then suck on the sponge to drink the few drops he could get out. But even that made him cough uncontrollably.  

We stayed for hours. Going in and out of the room. Leaving to eat and give others a chance to visit. One of my dad's last requests was to get a photo with all the grandkids. He smiled so big for that photo. It broke my heart. I got some photos of him and me and he also smiled with me. It nearly broke me. One of the times I went back into the room shortly before we had to go I asked him if he had a good day. His reply, "I did. The best." That was absolutely heartbreaking to hear. I told him over and over that I loved him. I held his hand. I gave him a hug. I noticed that out of all the visitors we had my dad only reached his hand out for two people to hold their hands. My brother Stefan and my husband Marlon. I know that the were really special to my dad. Then we had to go. I gave him a kiss and again told him I loved him and gave his hand one last squeeze. As I left, I looked back at him in the bed. Walking away knowing it would be the last time I would see him. I walked out the front door, closed it and looked back. Again knowing the next time I go through that door he wont be on the other side. As I walked down the path that went right next to his bedroom window, I looked at the window knowing this would be the last time he was sitting there in bed. We got to the car and I got all the kids in. I sat there in disbelief for a moment letting it all hit me. I broke down. Then one of my children asked me, "Is this the last time we are going to see Abu?" I had already told them but I think they just couldnt believe it. I had to say yes. It was the saddest car ride home. That was the last day he was really awake and able to communicate and open his eyes.

The days passed and then the waiting game as to when I was going to get THE call. On 11/27/24 at 2:48pm I had the urge to call my dad. I called my mom's cell and asked to be put on speaker and put next to my dads ear. I cried on the phone again telling him how much I loved him. Thanked him for being there for me through the years but more importantly for showing up for my kids when I was a single mom. He used to show up all the time to take them to and from school. He used to step in for all the father things like donuts for dad or whatever other school event there was so that they didnt feel left out. I had also learned at my visit on Saturday that he at one point didnt want to be a father because he felt that he wouldnt be a good one. So I took this moment to tell him he did an amazing job. He should be proud. I told him that he can let go and rest. He deserves to rest and its ok to go. I told him we would be ok. Lastly I ended it with "I love you." Our conversation took about 6 minutes. My mom and sister both told me he heard me. He turned toward the phone and when I was done he nodded in understanding. 

He died 28 minutes later.

So this post is a reminder of the things I did get to say. I said everything I needed to say and I feel at peace.

Hannah Lam

I had a best friend growing up named Hannah Lam. We met in middle school in South Pasadena CA and stayed best friends for all of middle school and high school. I have some incredible memories with her. From her coming to Las Vegas with my family. Her and my grandma getting close. Her dad helping me when I bruised a vein in my ankle. Us running into Judge Ito at a Trader Joe’s in the midst of the OJ trial. Her encountering spiderwebs in the tennis courts at our local park and her running around in hysteria till she threw up. Us playing Missy Elliott songs in my beat up purple Dodge Neon. And of course our whip cream fight. As many do, we lost touch after we graduated high school. Cell phones were a new thing and I don’t think she even had one. I had a razr (iykyk) and I would call her parents landline (again, iykyk). Our last conversation was when I was visiting my cousin in Fresno probably around October 2008. I remember I was telling her how I just met up with one of our mutual high school friends Aimee. She had come all the way from TN I believe and I hadn’t seen her in years. I don’t remember the exact wording I used but I said something to the effect of, “I see Aimee more than you, and she lives in TN!” For reference Hannah had not moved away and was still somewhat local to me. I had moved a few cities over but still probably only a 30 minute drive at most. This was said in an effort to see if we could meet up more because I missed her. Her reply to me, and again I don’t recall the exact words as it’s been years, was something along the lines of, “Well I guess I can’t be the friend you want me to be.” And that was the last I ever heard from her.

I have replayed that conversation over and over in my head for over a decade now. I don’t think either of us really reached out to each other after that and Im not exactly sure why. I was in the midst of a divorce and navigating life as a new single mom while still processing the death of my stillborn daughter. I know in recent years I have emailed her many times and have gotten no reply. I even found her siblings on facebook and asked if there was a way to reach Hannah and no one ever responded. I have changed so much from those days and I really feel the need to take accountability for some things and just express how much she meant to me. So this is a letter to Hannah.

Dear Hannah (Hannah-lama-lama),

 I really don't even know where to begin. I have been trying to reach you for years. I've often wondered how life has treated you after all these years. Where are you now? How are your parents? More importantly, who are you now? We were just kids/ young adults when we we're friends... which honestly to me now, is still a kid. I feel like I have so much to catch up on and tell you about... I mean if you care.

I certainly care very much about you still. At one point I saw you like a sister. We haven't spoken in almost 16 years. Thats a long time. I don't even know how that is possible. 

I think back about our friendship that started back in middle school. One of the found memories I have from that time was how you would bring these little sticky white bread buns to school which I later learned were Chinese steamed buns. (I missed these so much that I recently learned how to make them at home and it reminded me so much of you and your parents) They were so delicious and you would give them to me often. I also remember you giving me your school lunch pizza which I loved so much. But in thinking back to those times there is a lot of grey area too. I don't even know who that version of me is anymore.I don't remember much of my childhood and young adulthood due to trauma. My therapist asked me questions about that time a lot and I simply have to say I don't know. I have huge sections of my memory that are just gone. But many of the memories I do remember involve you. So first off, thank you for bring part of the best times of my childhood. You were an amazing friend. But more importantly, secondly, I remember you giving me those foods a lot and I don't know fi you ever felt obligated to give it to me when you didn't want to. I was probably only thinking of myself back then. I am so much more aware now. I honestly lived in a bubble back then. And I want to apologize if you ever felt like I was demanding you give me those things or really anything else. I'm sorry if you ever felt it was an expectation. And if there was ever a time where you actually wanted those foods or anything else but you gave them to me... I'm so sorry. Your needs and wants were absolutely valid too. I honestly don't remember if that even was the case but I'm much more empathetic and more conscious of the way I make others feel now. So thinking back I now really sit with how I may have made you feel.

There were so many times I wanted to call you. Like when Abilla died. I know you got to know her. She really loved you like a granddaughter. I wanted to call you each time I had a baby. I wanted to call to tell you when my divorce was final. When I got remarried. When I bought my first house. When I found my biological family. When my bio dad died. When I got to see Missy Elliott perform TWICE. (Honestly that one hurt so much because I always thought when Missy would have a concert that we would absolutely go together because we were such die hard fans. Doing that without you left a scar for real.) Just all the milestone things and big events. I have really missed just sharing life with you. I have really missed hearing what's going on with you. I really wish I could have been there to celebrate your highs and hold you through any lows.

I have scoured the internet for you. Facebook, IG, Tik Tok... even LinkedIn. Like where are you girl? 

I had a dream about you a few nights ago and I was like BITCH, I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU. And you weren't even surprised to see me. And when I asked for your number you hesitated to give it to me and I woke up before I could even see if you did give it to me. 

I just really miss you. I would love to find you again one day and would love to get to know each other again. I feel like this version of me is so much deeper than who I used to be. After all, Im 41 now. I have learned a thing or two. I know you are 40 and that your 41st b day is coming up December 1st. I never forgot.

If you ever find this blog know that I have never stopped thinking of you. I miss you dearly and I hope we reconnect one day. Below are photos of many of our shenanigans.

Love.

Tiffany

Welcome

 Welcome to my newest blog. As I get older in this thing we call life, I find that there are things I have to say and no place to say them. They aren't for the private blogs I already have established. They aren't for social media. And I don't think I want to write it down in a journal or diary that can just thrown out when I am no longer here. As they say, the internet is forever. So I think it would be fitting to share my thoughts and letters on here, so they can live on even longer than I will. 

These posts will be written with the intentions of self expression and perhaps if I am lucky those who these words are written for will read them. If not, then at least I got to say (write the words) what I needed to say. And even if the people these are written for/about don't read them, I hope those that come across these posts can get something out of them anyway.

Having said that, I don't know how often I will be writing here. Just that I will. If you care to tag along thats fine too. My posts will be sporadic and random. So if you want unpredictable, this is your blog.