“How could you?” I croak out. The pain in my voice is raw and gritty. I feel every word come up, it feels like razor blades.
Do you know what it feels like to be a stranger in your own mirror? To look at yourself and not know what the other half of you is? The older I get the worse it is. I look less like my dad and more like a ghost.
Dad clears his throat, running a hand through his hair, “You and I should have had this conversation a long time ago, Sully.” He pauses. “As a parent you’re supposed to have all the answers for your children, but this was something I was clueless about. They didn’t give me a manual for how to deal with this, Valor. I was just trying to protect you.”
I want to scream, yell. I want to be angry at him. But I can’t. Even after he hid this from me. I know my dad would never intentionally hurt me. I know he loves me. But it doesn’t make this hurt any less. It doesn’t take away this hurt.
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to keep myself together,
“Your mom used to do that when she was upset too,” he says it like we talk about her all the time. As if she is a topic we bring up all the time.
This was the most I’d ever talked about her. He never mentioned her, not her name, not what she looked like. Not a damn thing. The woman was a ghost to me.
“I know we should have talked about her earlier, Val. I should have said something about the letters. I fucked up, and that’s on me. But you have to understand, I was terrified of seeing you hurt again. You were so little when she left and it nearly killed me watching how broken you were.” His confession makes me want to cry, and it also warms my heart.
I had missed out on having a mother. Someone who could have shown me how to use a tampon, instead of Riggs having to. Someone who would have told me how to deal with my feelings for Bishop. She would have braided my hair tighter and helped me with prom if I would have gone. All of the things a mother was for, I might have had that.
But what did I have? I had a father who loved me. Who guarded me with his life. He showed me how to shoot a puck, change a flat tire, and how to be the woman I am today. He showed me how to be strong, to be independent, and how to love people. I didn’t have a mom growing up, but I had a dad. I had an amazing dad.
“I’m sorry, Sully girl. I understand if you’re mad at me, hell,” he sighs, “I’d be mad at me too.”
I stare at him for a moment. Not moving, not talking. Just looking at him. This hurts him too. I am his daughter and he can’t do anything in this moment to help heal my pain.
I set the box down on a shelf and throw my arms around his neck. Letting the tears fall freely. He quickly wraps me in a hug, holding me there. He’s my safe place, who I go to when I’m scared.
I inhale deeply, the smell of Old Spice wafting my senses reminding me of times when I was little. When I’d get scared or have a nightmare, I’d run into his room. He’d just lift the blanket up, like he knew I’d be coming in there. I’d move my small body under the blankets and bury my face into his pillows, letting his scent put me to sleep while he played with my hair.
“I love you, Pops,” I whisper into his shoulder, clutching onto him tightly.
“I love you too, Valor.”
I slip out of his grasp, grabbing the box again. I look down at my name on the lid, wondering what she was feeling when she wrote my name on this. Was she crying? Did she miss me? I have so many questions that I never got answers to, and I feel like they are waiting for me just underneath this lid.
I hear Riggs clear her throat before stating,
“Someone want to let me know what the fuck just happened or…”
I believe when we are born the universe has a plan for each of us. They have certain people placed in our lives, certain destinations we are meant to reach. They plan our checkpoints, but they leave us with choices. It’s up to us to make our own decisions. Either way, we end up exactly where we were always supposed to be. Sometimes you choose the easy path, and other times it’s more difficult.
For those who never believed in a certain kind of divine, a destiny, or supernatural power. How is it that the earth is a billion years old, and by a stroke of luck we ended up existing at the same time?
That is not luck. That is something beyond the human body. It’s sometimes beyond the human mind as well. But every once in a while we catch a glimpse of fate working. We see the little people weaving the strings, measuring the length, connecting them.
We see the blueprint that the universe created for each of us, and the souls they mapped us with.
Dear Valor,
If you’re opening this letter it means your dad finally gave them to you. How old are you now? Eighteen? Twenty -five? I doubt you’re twelve. There is no way that stubborn father of yours gave them to you when I sent them.
I’m not sure where to begin so I guess we can just start with the obvious.
I know you probably hate me. That’s okay, you can hate me if you want. I’m simply a random woman writing you these letters. You don’t owe me anything, especially the title of mom. But I would like to write to you as a friend. A guiding hand when you need it. So don’t think of me as your mother, think of me as a random pen pal.
I want to tell you everything. The reasons behind why I left, and why I believed that leaving you was better than staying. No, I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I just want you to understand a little better.
When I was a child, I didn’t have a father. He was a random man my mother let use her body for fifty bucks and a pack of smokes. At least I could give you a dad who loves you, that is the only thing I did right by you, Valor…
My hands are squeezing the steering wheel for dear life. There are heavy drops falling from my eyes straight to my lap where the open letters sit. I was barreling down the interstate going faster than I should have, but it didn’t feel fast enough.
The first letter I read titled Open When You Need Answers. It didn’t do anything but leave me with more questions I’d read word after word for hours. I read about how she was sexually abused, how she started drugs, how she met my dad, and when she had me.
How I was this beacon of light for her and then one day she woke up scared she’d taint my soul. I read about how she got clean and she came to see me. She came to see me when I was five years old, but decided that I would have been better off without her. Isn’t it funny how people think they can decide shit for you?
How can someone assume they know what’s best for you? Tell me, how is leaving me behind what’s best for me?
I sniffle, wiping the snot from under my nose with the sleeve of my shirt, trying to see the road through my watery eyes. My mind is swimming with questions, doubts, and fears. I’m tired of feeling this way.
Dear Valor,
If you opened this it means you needed me and I wasn’t there.
Was it a bad date? Or did you have your first period? Are you pregnant? I hope your dad told you to use protection. If I were there, I’d make you tea. I'd make you some chamomile tea with honey, lemon, and a splash of milk. I fully believe it heals all heartaches.
I know that a letter will not comfort you the way my touch or my voice would. I know that a thousand of these letters will never make up for a second of the pain I caused you, but I want you to know that I am here. Whenever you are ready, no matter your age, I will still be here. I’m ready whenever you are, angel.