InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Frosted Flakes is Grrrrreat"

Dear Diego,

I asked Ofelia to let me write this letter. We did spend several days discussing it and she agrees with everything I'm about to write. Diego, you know that I love you and I've always been concerned about you. You and I have talked in the past about how I think you might have an anxiety disorder, but it hasn't been my place to tell you or your mothers how to handle it. You're a bright young man, and you're old enough now to make your own decisions.

But Ofelia and I are very worried about you. Mr. Merrill informs us that someone could have gotten killed, and that you were lucky to get off with a broken clavicle considering how much you drank. I won't lecture you about what happened (although I can't guarantee Ofelia won't later), but I hope you understand why, when you get home, we want to have a serious discussion about you going to a therapist.

Please don't consider this a punishment. You're too old to be grounded. Maybe it'll turn out that this is all normal teenage rebellion and we're overreacting, but I'd rather overreact than see you seriously hurt yourself. I'm hoping that it will help you to talk to someone who's trained to help with whatever you're going through. We love you, Diego, and we just want you to be safe.

Love,
Mom (Johanna)

P.S. Happy 18th birthday (soon)! We won't be sending your birthday present by post since it's too big, but I promise it's waiting for you right at home. I can't wait to hear you play it.

[Included is a photograph of a tall professional upright piano made of polished ebony. It sits in the living room of the Morales home—there are photographs artfully arranged on the wall, featuring Diego's childhood recitals and concerts. On top of the piano is a reading lamp which he'll recognize as having been painted and redone by Johanna, in the style of one of her glass art pieces.]