Dear Chris,

It's hard to believe that a year has passed since we lost you. I'm still feeling myself moving back and forth from denial, anger, bargaining and depression (lots of depression) but I just can't seem to get to the point of acceptance.
Not a lot of people know what I'm going through, but there hasn't been a day where I don't see you, think of you, hear you. I still find myself breaking down when I listen to a specific bunch of your songs. I honestly don't see this changing in the near future. It's as if listening to your voice immediately triggers something in my brain that I can't control. There are a few of your songs that I don't allow myself to hear unless I'm alone, because I know what's coming if I hear them.

Sadly, the music that you left behind isn't enough... And maybe that just shows how much of a legend, a star, a role-model you are. Usually, when musicians go away, their music is enough to fill the void. With you, it's not enough. You were so much more than just your music. You were the leader of a generation. You gave so much. That's why it hurt so much when you took it away by taking your life.

I can still remember the feeling I had when I first heard about your death. I read the words but my mind didn't manage to comprehend the meaning of those words. I was at work and I couldn't function that day. The moment I got into my car I let it all out. That week was full of breakdowns.I remember walking in the streets in the following days, crying my eyes out uncontrollably, to the point where people would stop me to ask what happened to me. This whole year has been full of breakdowns.

I guess there's not much to do now but wait for the acceptance part to kick in. In the meanwhile, I'll keep thinking about you and listening to what you've left behind- your amazing music. I just hope that you can feel all the love we for you from wherever you are. We promise to grow older and honor your existence, and you, you will forever be 52.

I have much more I want to say, but can't manage to put my feelings into words. All I can say is that I love you for who you are, for what you've done and for what you have left behind. As I'm typing this, my eyes can't seem to stop tearing and this will forever be what happens. The scar won't heal, I'll just have to get used to living with it.

In a few days I'll be flying from Israel to LA for a few days. I promise to come and visit you... Please, say hello to heaven...

P.S.- I came to visit a few days after writing this post. I sat near your grave for more than three hours. Listening to your music (and trying to sing) whilst crying. I hope you felt the love for you. Every once in a while someone would walk up and visit you. It was just a few days after the ceremony that was made for you for the one year "death anniversary". Your grave was full of flowers and notes that people left you. I know that you can feel the love wherever you are. I hope to come and visit again. Till next time, take care of us from wherever you are.

Dear Chris,

It's been six months since you took yourself away from us. I can't even begin to describe my feelings. I guess I'm still overwhelmed. I wanted to say what's on mind…

I want to start first by saying thank you. Thank you for your kind heart. Thank you for your songs. Thank you for your lyrics. Thank you for your voice. Thank you for your talent. Thank you for "creating" Pearl Jam (my all-time favorite band). Thank you for your amazing concerts. Thank you for Temple of the dog. Thank you for giving me endless goosebumps when I listen to you. Thank you for being a human rights activist. Thank you for your music.

I still can't believe and don't want to believe that we won't get to see you and be in your presence anymore. There isn't a day that goes by where I don't think about you. Every concert felt as if you were a friend. Your voice still has the ability to run shivers down my spine and give me goosebumps all over.

Ever since you went away, I can't stop listening to you. It's the only thing I have to hold on to. All of a sudden, Temple of the dog has a changed meaning. It was something that you wrote for your friend Andy Wood, but now it can be related for yourself as well. If only you would have stopped for a second, on that damn night of the 18th of May, and listened to "Times of trouble", then maybe, just maybe this whole thing could have been avoided.

As I'm writing these words for you, tears are uncontrollably running down my cheeks. The amount of times I cried in the last 6 months because of your loss is indescribable. It's funny to see how you can mourn for someone you never really personally knew, but maybe that's your magic. Maybe your gift was to touch so many people from far away and make it feel so personal to each and every one of them.

I read all the tributes that people write to you and it makes me understand that I am not facing this alone. Many others have a hard time dealing with the void that you have left. Personally, I don't think I can ever come to terms with what you have done. I have a small bit of anger towards you. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US???

I guess we'll never really know what went on in your mind in those final moments. I guess we'll just have to continue to fill the void that you left behind with your music, but I want you to know that no matter what- you have changed many lives and given lots of inspiration to us all. We love you and we'll always love you. I appreciate all that you have done and cherish your work forever. Time will not make it better, the void will always be there, and I will continue to try and fill that void with your music. 
I will end this letter by telling you that I love you. Your music has been influencing me for more than 25 years and that is something that no one can take back. If you're listening up there, I want you to know that you are still very much loved and missed.

Take care of all of us from up there and.... Say hello 2 heaven...