EMILY GIRARD | FICTION WRITER

Jojo,

Mom got me into therapy. Just like after Daddy died. New therapist. Same grief.

Dr. Sowers said it might help if I wrote you a letter. An answer to the one you left me, I guess. It’s not the kind of correspondence I imagined we’d have at this point. Figured we’d be sending letters back and forth from college. I won’t mail this one. I’ll stick it in the box that holds all the letters from you.

I wonder if you saved the little notes I wrote you over the years. I’d guess you did. You’re sentimental like that. Or you were. I wonder if Gran has them now. God, I hope she doesn’t read them if she does.

I’m at school now. Heading home for Thanksgiving break in a day. I’ve never been this far from home—way up in Ohio. A little women’s college. It’s already snowed up here. I guess I’m a yankee now.

I like school. I pretty much stay to myself. At least here, I’m not the girl whose boyfriend died. I’m just a girl. A sad one. But no one knows why.

I’m studying English. Mom said no matter what I do in life, I’ll need to know how to write. Whether it’s law school or medical school, she says. I think Mom has higher hopes for me than I have for myself. I’ll be lucky to stick around for four years and graduate. I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. Right now, being alive is all I can handle.

My therapist says to let it all out. Let you have it. I guess she’s right, but I don’t know what to give you. My anger? My grief? Those are the things that keep me tethered to the world. Tethered to you. I can’t let you have them yet.

Every freshman has to take this class called ‘Freshman Seminar’. We read a book and discuss it. The grade is just participation. Easy A. Each section reads a different book. Mine is Man’s Search for Meaning by Victor Frankl. My roommate’s section is To Kill a Mockingbird, your favorite. If I were in that class, it would be a super easy A. You never could shut up about that book.

But I’m kind of glad I landed in this section. The book and class discussions are helping me. This guy, Mr. Frankl, survived a concentration camp. Horrible conditions. I didn’t know people could be so evil. But the book isn’t about that. It’s about the quest for purpose. He said with purpose, you can survive almost anything. The most famous quote is this: Suffering ceases to be suffering the moment it finds meaning.

I’ve thought a lot about that. For you. For me. What does losing you mean? How can it give me purpose? Well, Mr. Frankl has some thoughts on that, too. He says there are three ways:

• Through a mission. 
• Through love. 
• Through your attitude toward suffering. 

I’m trying. Honest, I am. 

I’m working hard in school. I guess that’s my mission. 

I love Pop. I love my mom. I love you.

But my attitude could use some work.

It’s hard being in this world without you. Like I’ve lost a part of myself but still feel the phantom pains of it. I wonder if that feeling will ever go away? If it does, do I lose you again?

Right now, it’s here. All the time. I’m suffering, and so is my attitude.

But I’ll keep on trying. What other choice do I have?

I love you, Jojo.