This letter has been one of the few I've been wanting to write, but not sure how it will be taken. But I think we're ready for this.


For most years I remember yelling. Yelling from everyone. You and I didn't get along very well when we talked, especially about wrestling. I think we were both too stubborn to see each other's side.

But that's not what this is about. This is about one night in particular. One night without any fighting. I'm pretty sure it was after a match, or a tournament. I don't remember if I won or not. I just remember I was saying goodnight to you. You hugged me, and said you were proud of me. It made me happy, but the voices in my head said you were only proud of me for my wrestling. But that's when you proved them wrong. The first person to tell me they were wrong.

You looked down at me and said, "Not just for wrestling, but for everything." To other people, that's something that wouldn't mean much. I don't even think you realize how much that meant.

For years up till that moment, I'd heard how great Robert and Jordan were doing, how great Kira's matches were and how if I could just be like them I'd be the best there is. Some of my most vivid memories are you yelling at me because my grades weren't what you wanted, or how I should have taken the shot when I didn't. I didn't feel like I was living up to be what you wanted me to be. I've always thought I was the disappointment of the three siblings.

And then you said this. And when I went upstairs and saw Mom, I started sobbing. You were proud of me. Me. You hadn't told me that in years... She told me that you say it all the time, but I wondered why I'd never heard it.

And that's when I realized it was one of your flaws. You tell everyone else when someone's done a good job, but not that person. But I also know you've taken that advice from me. To tell me and the others when they do well rather than criticizing them all the time. We've both grown from our fights, learning how to be better people to others, even if we can't figure out how to be that to ourselves or each other.

The reason this memory came up was because you've been telling me a lot how proud you are of me lately. And the last time you wrote it on Facebook, it brought back this memory. Emotionally broken people often find the most securities in the past. Those moments that make us feel worth it. I just wanted you to know that this is one of those moments for me. I hope this letter becomes one for you. Te amo Papi.