Boston, May 2016

Elsa,

If you're seeing this, it means you're awake and I'm not around. I decided to give this a test drive. The whole...letting you be in control thing. I can't remember much of our interactions when you're gone, but I want you to know this isn't a war. Not with me, at least.

I won't fight you and I can only ask for the same courtesy. I understand this isn't your world and I know it's not ideal for either of us, but we can make the best of it.

I've taken to writing you this notebook, to maybe help guide you through this when you come around. We haven't gotten off on the right foot, but I'm hoping we can change that. I'm not the enemy.

I introduced you to the important people in my life. I figured I should introduce them to you, too.

This is my Mom, Joan Russo. I came to live with the Russos when I was about three years old. I can't remember anything before that. All I know is the Russos have always been my family. Your family.

2014

We're all very close. You have siblings on this side. Three of them on paper, so many more bonded to you by heart.

I have to admit May isn't an easy month for me. Mother's Day has always given me conflicting feelings.

The Russos were always open about us being adopted. I think, out of all of us children, I'm the one who wonders the most about our birth families.

I've been searching for my birth parents for a while now. Thanks to you, I found them. Or they found their way to me.

1991	This is your mother. I think. It's my birth mother. This is the only picture I have of her. Up until last month, I had no idea what she looked like. So I guess this is more than nothing. I'm sorry you lost her. I'm sorry I never got to know her.

I guess you could say I'm taking it hard. A part of me sometimes wonders if not knowing would be better. At least then there would still be something to hope for.

I imagine it's not easy for you, being alone in a foreign world. I'm sorry if I haven't made that easy for you.

I visited her grave this week. I guess I should have told someone, because it kind of fucked me up. Do you ever feel that way? Like the universe is conspiring against you?

I know that's silly and egocentric, but it got the best of me this week. I have a lot of apologizing to do now.

But I suppose you're not interested in that. The point is it's Mother's Day this month and, for once, I have two moms. I should feel lucky, but I just feel guilty and riddled with grief.

I tell people you can't lose what you never had, but I feel...sorrow. Knowing my birth parents are dead, I mourn the life I never had with them.

But I am grateful for the life I do have. And that you could have, Elsa. Because they love you, as they love me. If only you'll let them.

There's a family lunch on Mother's Day. You didn't come around last month, so this is a shot in the dark, but if you're around for it and I'm not, please attend.

Eddie's coming with me this year. He's a really good guy and he knows what it feels like to lose someone that important. You can talk to him if you need anything.

It's his first time meeting my family, so I guess try to be nice? Not just to him, but to everyone. I know you're not a people person, but maybe if we can find a compromise, it'll get easier. Maybe... I don't know, maybe you'll be around for more than a week.

That could happen, right? I have some of your stuff. The lamp, the choker. It's...odd. Awkward, really. It doesn't feel like it belongs to me and I have to hide a lot of information from people close to me.

I've been training, trying to get a grip on these new skills. Punched a wall this week, broke a couple of bones. But you should have seen the other guy. I guess I heal now? That's something that comes with your genes, I suppose.

Someone said this is changing us physically, too. So maybe I have some of your genes, too. I don't know, I don't try to understand it. But it's something that