Papa was a Burner. It was his thing.

The following letter and momentos are going with my cousin to Burning Man this year to be placed in the Temple in his memory. Thank you, Liv.

Transcript of the letter:

The death of your physical body was a catalyst to a complete transformation of my own life, Papa. I wish you were here for it. I still hear your cough. I still want to call you to talk about politics. I am even going back to school and I know you would be so proud. I have been talking a lot about you lately to everyone who will listen. You never cease to amaze others with your life and your story.

Your physical body went so peacefully. I am truly grateful to “Your Maker” for that. Little Brother took it so hard. He blames himself, Papa. I do not think he knows that your energy is still with us. I feel you running through my veins. You guide my decisions. I still lean on you. I have learned so much in the nine months you have been gone. I can not imagine what I will learn in the upcoming decades of my life without you. This letter is going to Burning Man. Are you here? I am sure of it.

You filled my soul with wholesome compliments about my intelligence and physical appearance. You were proud of me. You knew my spirit. You saw the good in me. You were always going to bat for me and the family. Yes, you were our patriarch, but you offered us so much. I tend to remember the bad, but I know we had good. I was in a deep pit of depression, guilt, and shame. So much shame. My self esteem was nonexistent. I had so much hurt inside. Thank you for trying your best. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for not murdering preteen and then teenage Jenna. Thank you for always listening. Thank you for trying to understanding. Thank you, Papa, for being an essential part of my life and who I am today.

The Transformation:

You left this Earth thinking G and I were a couple. I left G on April 2nd of this year. He was so toxic, Papa. He filled my head with so many lies about myself. I let him destroy the spirit you knew. I believed his untruths about myself. I forgot who I was and where I came from. I felt dumb and incapable with G. I was codependent on him and his garbage. He tried to force me into who he wanted me to be, not who I am meant to be. I cried so many tears over him. There was so much hurt. I was being poisoned every day I stayed. If you knew the extent of the emotional abuse, you would have probably got in your truck with the intent to put a bullet in between his eyes. Did you know? I could never pull one passed you.

Somehow, I gathered the strength and left. It was the hardest thing in my life so far, but the most rewarding. It was an ultimate act of self love. At first, I had no idea what to do. I cried some more, rambled so much to my strong tribe of women, and took care of Jenna the best I could. I felt so, so alone. In this sense of utter aloneness, I began to see how extraordinary beautiful life is. I feel what you felt about it: the wonder, the people, the experiences, and I am beginning to create a life worth living. You always told me that I was the captain of my own soul, master of my fate. I realize that now. My happiness is all on me. Armed with this knowledge, I have found and continue to find peace. I do not claim to be perfect or that I will be perfect, but I possess the strength you have that I admired. I was sexually assaulted on May 11th, Papa. He was a stranger I met for a date. I thought I was going to die. I leaned on you so very much in processing it. You were with me in the hospital. You were with me when I talked to the police. I still lean on you when I think about it. I will not let him rob of me of my newfound discoveries. I am worth so much more than the rape. He does not have that power over me. I am your Jennaface and I will not let him take that from me.

In an effort to leave behind things that do not help me grow, here are some relics from my past. One is the necklace left behind by the person who sexually assaulted me. The other is something I wore to represent G. By giving them to you, I am declaring that I will live the rest of this life with strength, grace, and contentment.

I know you had pain and hope you are at peace now. I look forward to the day when our souls are reunited.

xoxo,

your  (grand)daughter