Around the blogosphere, we write letters sometimes.

Letter to my 18 year old self.

Letter to my 16 year old self.

In writing those letters to myself, all that time, I never thought I’d be writing one to someone else. I could graciously go back in time and write things to myself because I knew deep inside, there was never a way that I would be faced with it. I’d never physically be able to back in time and physically touch my face, or hold my hand, or tell myself that it would be okay. And while it was emotionally freeing, I knew it would never be real.

Yesterday, it became real.

I got a call yesterday at work from my cousin who is pretty much my older brother. He said he needed some advice. Then he told me…

“She has diabetes.”

After talking with them at my house last night, and doing my best to give positive encouragement while answering any questions they may have, I could not get over it. I was looking at her as me. Brown hair, blue eyes…. it was like looking in a weird mirror. Seeing my past right in front of my eyes.

This morning, I wrote one of the most difficult letters of all.

It wasn’t to myself.

It was to my 12 year old cousin.

I bought her a journal and wrote her a letter on the very first page. Something she could keep with her, and add her stories to. Letting her know that she isn’t alone, and that I’ll always be here for her. It wasn’t easy, but I knew deep down that I would have loved to have had someone I could reach out to at that age that not just knew… but KNEW what I was going through.

I just pray that I can be that person for her.