Let Me Be Young Again

To my Baby Pumpkins

The war was hard on my parents who never truly expressed how much they loved us. As a result, when my relatives died, the news took ages to reach my ears, ears long dulled by the hairs and pride you collect the longer you live. Algeria became a country of its own, but my parents thought best to fly everybody in the U.K. For our future, much less for the comfort of the native who saw us as trash they would gladly throw on the floor to make sure how we reflect on their high class society. 

Yet times have changed, and my only daughter's kids, you Raïssa and Ty', are to go on in life with so much more comfort and ambition. And that is the main reason I am writing this letter to you too. When life had crushed me through financial struggles, I sought refuge in a cold loneliness, wrapped in a duvet of shame as my sole source of warmth. 

When she was old enough, and independent enough, I thought my job was done. In a way, by sending you two for a few weeks while she and your dad went on their trip, I was reminded that my responsibilities weren't over. God, was I embarrassed. Having to accommodate you two, and admitting I am struggling with making ends meet. Let alone, having to be so old, and spend time with two baby pumpkins. Life had crushed me by then, and I was close to use all my medical knowledge to leave our beautiful skyscrapered life the fastest when I wanted it gone. 

It wasn't a hatred for my life or any of you that fueled this contemplation. Rather, it felt as though my book had reached its conclusion, devoid of a sequel. 

As the news of you two started a whirlwind of questions that would cause my skull to ache, the eye of its tempest filled me with unresolved issues I had. My colleague told me "Remember when we were that age, how I wish I could have done some things". It clicked. You were my sequel: Be Young Again. It was difficult at first. Very "cringe" like you taught me. 

Silence filled my house, and to our bedrooms we were hiding from each other. I was even shy to make too much noise each time I used the bathroom. Unlike you two, with your 'pussy' and 'fucking' lyric-based favorite songs. Yet I have to admit having listened to that Doja Cat a few times again. I'm gonna miss you. And by the time you read this letter I'll be long gone. How do I know? Well this isn't the best part our story, so stick with me until the end. 

You guys were so angry at life to have given you everything, except what you truly desired. Ty' has so much talent he managed to paint an invisible mask to fit into a system that didn't suit him. He was afraid to express his artistry because our society only rewards finance and tech these times. And Raïssa you were so angry that your parents had been hearing your complaints; yet they had never really listened to your cries for help. I'm glad we got to talk, and that you finally found the courage that, the truth your bully had against you, would in the end never change how the world would see you. Kudos for beating the shit out of her, serves her right! Bloody entitled teenagers! Besides, you know so much about our world, politics of our country and others, I am sadden that your parents were mad because of your grades. Yes they are low. But you're high-standard. You are much more cultivated and smart than most of the people, let alone teenager, I know. 

Ty', I really hope your parents are starting to help you get all the artistic knowledge and education you deserve. Because when we went to Bath out of the blues, and later realize, we had no money left to get back home, and you started drawing people's portrait for money, I was in awe. In awe that I did not get reported and arrested, yes, but how you amazed people only by being amazing yourself. You had been shy all this time, but as soon as you took your pens out, you could talk to anybody so easily, and it eased my hardly likable old heart. By the way, I'm writing this letter due to my ischaemic heart disease. It might not sound crazy, but it will kill me in the next few days. 

I know we went to the amusement park together and I was fine. Except for my shirt, on which Ty' threw up on. Or when I knew the old bouncer of this old club we went into. How fun was that? I really hope your mother won't kill me for this. Oh, wait? I'll be dead.

I am dead.

I tried to tell you this when we were dead high on ecstasy that we got when were drunk. Oh my god, honey, I told you how irresponsible I am. At least, they were with their grandpa they managed to turn into an adult, now able to use a phone, and send messages on WhatsApp. And they taught me how to live life again, they taught me I can still learn, they taught me how to ride a bike, they taught me how to laugh and appreciate their generation I had disregarded so much. They proved me they are smart, brilliant, creative, assertive and resourceful in ways I did not know was possible. They made me forget, for christ sakes, that I was sick! They were, in fact so brilliant, that the time I thought would the longest turned out to be a flash in my eyes. And they made me forget. Forget I had to let them know what they deserved to know. 

As my health deteriorates, my attempt to communicate my impending demise became clouded by the joys you brought into my life. That's why I got so angry when you stopped visiting me, or answering my messages, you guys patiently took time to teach me the mechanics of a phone. I knew you had your exams coming up, but the Grim Ripper will be my last & only visit, in my now so lonely house. And I am scared.

Scared shitless, actually.

So, excuse me, I tried to lay out my heartbreaking heart failure news in a heartfelt way, but each heartbeat felt like my heart would drop, and there weren't any heartening updates to follow, as heartsick as it may sound. So, I just didn't.

This letter serves as a profound thank you to Raïssa and Tylo. You both allowed me to relive my youth, offering a sequel to a life I thought had concluded. The gratitude I feel transcends words, and it is my hope that, in reading this, you understand the depth of the impact you've had on my life. 

So thank you, Baby Pumpkins, because you Let Me Be Young Again. 

- Issa