Jena Lee Nardella

My dearest Jude,

It's hard to admit, but all the cliches are true. Before you were born, I didn't quite care to understand the depth behind the statements like: you-never-knew-you-could-love-someone-so-much alongside the it's-the-hardest-job-you'll-ever-love (and Mama and Daddy have had some hard jobs) matched now with the they-grow-up-so-fast. There are plenty more cliches, Jude, that Daddy and I have realized are true in these last two years with you - so many of them are about discovery, vulnerability, delight and being humbled by the everyday messes and miracles of watching you grow. 

Thursday night, I put on makeup and a fancy dress and walked into a ballroom with 450 co-laborers in the fight against HIV/AIDS to celebrate Blood:Water’s annual Red Tie Gala — a night dedicated to advancing the fight to end the HIV/AIDS crisis in Africa. I went into the night with a heavy heart but left with deep gladness. You see, a year ago I lost a dear friend named Joseph to a secret he had kept hidden from everyone close to him.

When I lived in Nashville, I spent one Thursday night a month wrapped up in a good book with some close friends. It was a night I looked forward to every month. I loved being part of a book club. That's why I am so excited to announce Blood:Water is launching its own book club!

On the morning I left Nashville to move to California, my Uber driver picked me up and asked me what kind of trip I was taking. "A big one," I told him. I looked over at my beautiful city. At the brilliant reflection of a six o'clock rising of the day on windows of buildings and sides of bridges that weren't there when I moved here. A stunning city that has grown up and become something I didn't know it could.

I told you a couple weeks ago, Blood:Water surprised me with something wonderful to honor the release of my memoir, "One Thousand Wells." They secretly began a campaign to build raintanks at two different schools to bring 800 kids in Kenya access to clean water. They called it 1000:1000 — One Thousand Hours for "One Thousand Wells."

I just finished reading a collection of short stories called The UnAmericans by Molly Antopol. They were powerful and masterfully written. The scenes were scattered among geographies and lots in life, but revolving around Jewish identities, communism and the red scare. The writing was vivid, palpable and astonishingly detailed. And though I couldn't articulate the literary themes across the stories like someone with an English degree may be able to, I could feel them, knowingly and deeply. They had something to do with loneliness, secrets and utter human frailty.