Dear Jevandre,
The Lettuce House has been having trouble with the dishwasher the past few weeks. Since our house didn’t come with one, Lorenzo and I had the noble idea to permanently install a portable one that would also function as a kitchen island. One day it gave out, and I’ve spent the time since learning more than I ever wanted to know about sumps, intake motors and solenoid valves.
***All normal-functioning dishwashers are alike***
All shoddily-installed portable dishwashers break down in their own way.
Well, we cut our losses and ordered a new dishwasher. A Handyman Must Know His Limits. We hooked it up, turned it on, heard the pump push water through the top rotor, and rejoiced. Sweet Relief! Lorenzo thus declared that June 23rd would forever be known as Dishwasher Day. He even added it to the shared house calendar. I looked out the window to save face as the tears that had been conspicuously absent all morning started to well up. I liked his idea. To me, June 23rd will always be the day you died. But I suppose it can be Dishwasher Day, too.
I wasn’t even going to write to you today, you know. It’s been 5 years, man. I want so badly to be Over It. The truth is, I was less sad and confused and scared today than I have been the last few years. I haven’t talked to the earring with your ashes in it for months. I haven’t heard your voice in the wind since December. I feel, optimistically, that the worst of the grief is behind me. And although I am relieved to know things can, in fact, get better, it makes me sad to know that even the painful reminders of you will fade. Eventually, I’ll run out of things I’ve forgotten to remember about you, and every memory from that point will fold over itself until it’s a memory of a memory. At some point, your mom will run out of unposted pictures of you for her Instagram. After that, Jocine and I will run out of stories to talk about on our annual catch-ups and we’ll start doubling back. All this, in an increasingly Herculean effort to never, ever forget you.
I felt guilty about how enlivened I was by the dishwasher, thinking today should be a sad day, a heavy day. But I couldn’t help myself. I loaded that bitch up to the brim, Cheshire Grin on my face, giggling at my new toy. Once it was full, I washed the rest by hand, shaking my hips and bobbing my head. I was just so happy about the kitchen being clean. Because once the kitchen is clean, I can cook again, and once I can cook again, I can be back on my routine, and maybe I’ll start sleeping better, and then I can start releasing music again, and this crazy year will start settling down and I’ll be able to wrap my head around just how I ended up in this new house, with this new job, with the future in front of me looking wider open than it ever has.
Can you believe we would be 30 next year? There’s a numerology thing in there we would have celebrated. Troublesome Trio, met in the Third Grade, now in our Thirties. Wonder where you’d be working right now? It’s hard, huh, keeping up with all the adult stuff. I was about at my wits’ end dealing with all the house shit. It takes up so much headspace, I can barely get in a second to work on music. I’m at a crazy career crossroads right now. What do I do? Double Down or Double Back? I really could use your sage wisdom. Sometimes I try to Force-Ghost your apparition into telling me what to do, and all you ever say is an echo of what you always have— Keep Going Asshole. To which I respond, Shut Up Hypocrite. If you took your own advice, I would be talking to you over the phone, not over this blog. Burn, asshole. I get it, though. Keeping Going is terrifying when everything around you is unfamiliar. I’ve tried a bunch of new stuff, recently, in an effort to reclaim power over my general ungroundedness. The logic goes, Hey If Nothing Feels Familiar Might As Well Lean Into The Unknown. I started small, with groceries. I tried soursop juice the other day. I wonder if you ever had it. Did you like it? There’s a Filipino supermarket right by my new place. Would you have tried the chicken feet with me? They were weirdly gross, but I liked them, or maybe I just liked that I tried something new. Nubility aside, I still find my way home through our old favorite topics. There’s a new Spider-man coming out soon! That’s two you haven’t seen, now, dude. Chainsaw Man ending sucked, and I know, I know, you weren’t even around when it started, but I know you would have loved it. I bet you would call dibs on being Aki, and somehow find a way to shoehorn me into being Denji. Hmm, what else. You’re not missing out on much by skipping Boruto. Good call, there. Videogame-wise, Pokémon Champions is fucking awesome, despite it being — you know — a Pokémon game; Hades 2 might even be better than the first; they’re making another Norse God of War; and Kingdom Hearts 4 might very well actually come out. Spiritually? Ah. I haven’t meditated in a while. That’s probably where the problem is, huh? Thanks for the wisdom, dude. Metaphysically? Don’t even get me started. Let’s get financially stable first before I go spelunking again.
Anyways, man, I miss you and I love you. I’d love to catch up more, but the dishwasher cycle is almost done and I can’t wait to unload it. I snuck in my room to write this, and I don’t want to spend too much more time dwelling. Dishwasher Day must be celebrated!
Your brother,
Marcello
