Love, Lana

Dear Aunty Lana,

I wanted to write a letter to you letting you know how much I love and appreciate you and everything that you have been in my life. You gave me some of the best memories of my life going back to when I was just a baby. From spending time with you at our family reunions to coming to California to visit the whole family for the summer. Our memories are timeless.

Coyote Ugly. As funny as it may sound when I think about the movie Coyote Ugly that movie instantly gives me memories of you. Why? Well the reason is kinda random. When my mama (your baby sister) brought me to California for the first time ever along with your nieces Rudy and Kindal when I was just seven years old during the summer of 2000, at that time Coyote Ugly had just come out during the third night of our family reunion and that night me and Rudy were coming to spend the night with you. Later that night your son (my first cousin Floyd) went with some of our cousins and I think maybe a few of his friends to the movies and I remember you asking him as they left were they going to go see Coyote Ugly. We had a lot of fun that night.

You were the oldest of three children born to Erma and Harry Spencer. Growing up my mom always told us that you were a hellraiser, but to be fair your younger brother Harry and your parents also said the same thing. As far as me and Rudy were concerned it was true, but we were unfazed because we knew everyone in our family was crazy, so there was no judgment there.

To say your heart was beautiful is an understatement. You’ve always been a great mother, aunty, and woman of faith. You always gifted everyone around you with love and warmth. Through the darkest times your positivity was supernatural in my eyes. You could look at everything around you going bad and even had bad things happening to you and yet, you kept your head held high and spoke faith over every dilemma.

Your loving heart wasn’t the only gift you gave to the world. The greatest gift you gave us is your son Floyd. Though he is my big first cousin, he was always more of a big brother to me, Rudy and Kindal. Just like you, he has always made us smile and made sure there was never a dull moment. He started a family of his own and has passed on to his children the same love that you put in his heart.

One thing I never told you was that after my mom died part of what comforted me was your voice. As her big sister you sounded just like her and every time we talked afterwards I felt like another part of her was with me because of your voice. As I grew up and discovered that writing was my passion you always cheered me on. You always read my stories and shared them with your friends.

In a funny way I always felt a sense of awkward shyness because of how much you would brag on me and tell everyone “my nephew is a great writer and he’s gonna write a book”. You always had faith in me and there was never a doubt in your mind that I was gonna be great one day. You expressed this to me every week in your text messages, along with how much you love your family.

Two weeks ago you passed away from cancer and I have been struggling to cope with you no longer being here everyday since. Losing you was losing another part of my own heart. It was also losing the last piece of my mother’s voice. What rings loudest in my mind is how strong you were in your last days and how much hope you instilled in me with everything I had going on. You told me to smile and hold on to faith just as my mother would, just as you would.

I’m trying to keep that spirit now, but it’s a bit difficult because I’m still not used to not recieving a text or a call from you every week now. I don’t know if I’ll ever be used to not hearing from you every week. I was extremely overwhelmed when you passed away. I didn’t know how I was gonna make it after having lost you, but I’ve slowly been learning to pick up the pieces just as you told me to do in your final days.

Your birthday was just a couple days ago and I thought about you every minute on that day. I can still hear your voice in my ears and can still remember they great times we shared in my memories. I miss you dearly, but I’m glad that you’re reunited with your little sister and your parents now. I know you’re watching over me and though I’m still on a road to recovery from you passing away, I promise that I will smile again and I will continue to write just as you wanted. I love you always, Aunty Lana Spencer.

~Dedicated to my Aunty Lana Spencer.