Dear “Heavan”

I’ve written a lot about how I’ve been journaling since I was 13. But it occurred to me when I was writing The Luck We Carry that writing has done a lot of heavy lifting in my life. When I was thinking about an essay from the book, “A Letter from the Future,” where I’d written myself a letter to give me some hope at a time I desperately needed it, a memory played in my head. It was right after I got the phone call that my grandmother had died, and I rushed to the desk in my bedroom and frantically wrote a letter to heaven, explaining what a wonderful woman she was and how much I loved her and all the reasons I did. It felt imperative—crucial—for me to write this letter as soon as I heard the news—as if it needed to get there before she did, and somehow make things easier for her.