Chapter Fourteen

Hazel

ONE YEAR LATER

Dear Hazel,

If you're reading this, then that means I'm currently driving God to drink. Then again, water into wine, am I right? Anyway, I wanted to send you one last thing, and while I'm sitting here in this boring-as-hell room wondering when I'm gonnakick the bucket—high heels on, thank you very much—I figured I'd impart some wisdom on you.

The colors aren't black and white. Sometimes, they're gray. Other times, they're red, pink, blue, or yellow, just like one scar never looks the same as another. The way the love around you fills, it shifts and changes. It grows.

You'll have setbacks, you'll have some of the best days of your life, followed by days where you want to crawl into the corner or scream into a pillow. Humans are like earthquakes waiting to happen. You know there could be damage, but you keep going, you keep fighting. And then if or when it does happen, you manage it, you fix it. You allow the cracks to fill, and you keep going, knowing it could happen again. But you become wiser for it.

Marriage is like that, Hazel. Wear lipstick for you, not just for him. Dress up at least once a week, even if it means you're walking around your house by yourself. The three Ss never cease to solve all problems: a good shave, a shower, and sex—in whatever order you prefer. And at the end of the day, Hazel, my dear girl, if you're a mess, if you're chaos, if you're dirty, if you can't even look at yourself in the mirror and feel nothing but pain? Well done. You've lived.

What a wonderful gift. And tell that boy next door I'm sure you're about to marry that I knew it the minute he saw you in the tree reading your book. I knew it the second he smiled up at you like a puzzle he couldn't figure out but wanted to try, day in and day out, until all the pieces fit.

I hope you enjoy your time with that young man and give us so many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. If you look at the third branch on the right, where you used to stash wine—shhhh, I won't tell—you'll find a blue hairpin inside the little hole. You'll also find a picture of us. Do me a favor? Have your daddy carry that picture with him down the aisle. On our deathbeds, we think about a lot of crazy things. On mine, I just wanted to hold your hand and walk you toward your beginning before I met my end.

I love you, sweet pea.

Great-Grandma Nadine.