Dear You

Dear you,

It was the day after you left us. Jules turned to me after finishing the latest episode of Blues Clues and asked, “Dadda?” I said you had to go away for a bit. I don’t think she understood but as soon as the next episode of Blues Clues sprung up on the screen she forgot all about it. I felt something wet drop on to my jeans. I felt my cheeks and realized they were damp with tears. I quickly erased the evidence that you left on me.

~

Dear you,

There was one night where Jules ran into my bedroom after waking up from a nightmare and saw me crying. “Are you hurt momma?” she asked, pointing to my face. I told her that I got a boo-boo. She asked me where. I wanted to say my heart but instead I pointed to my elbow and she gave it a kiss.

~

Dear you,

We moved to Seattle. We needed a fresh start. I needed a fresh start, a place where memories of you didn’t stain the streets, a place where no reminders remained of all that you took from me. I like Seattle. We never dreamed of visiting here allowing it to be just mine. I like Seattle. You can disappear in your tears and claim it on the rain here.

~

Dear you,

Today was Jules’ third birthday. She woke me up at 6am running into my room screaming, “It’s my birthday! It’s my birthday! Mommy wake up it’s my birthday!” She took an hour to choose an outfit, it was an intense debate between her green sparkly tutu or her pink tutu: green sparkles won out in the end. Too quote her ‘I want to look like a magical fairy princess’. And that she did after I placed a new tiara on top of her curls and she got her hands on the glitter. Her favorite part of her party was getting to boss all of her little friends around claiming ‘the birthday girl gets whatever she wants’. As you can tell, her love of her birthday came from your half of her genes.

~

Dear you,

I don’t know why I write these. You’ll never see them, you’ll never see us. You’ll never see all that you created and broke in the same breath. I guess this is just the closest thing to closure I’ll get.

~

Dear you,

She started preschool today. She was doing so well until we got to the front of the school. That’s when the smile slipped from her face. Her eyes grew wide with the realization that this is where she left me. She then turned around and pulled my hand towards the car with conviction saying, “Mommy school is for little kids. And you always told me I’m your big girl. I think I should go to work with you since you’re a big girl too”. I chuckled but when she looked up at me again, her nose stained red and rivers eroding her cheeks. I tried not cry at the sight of her. You always said I cried at the sight of any dog, cat, or child but I’ll have you know I held myself together this time. I crouched down gently drying her eyes. Then it the most confident voice I had I said, “Baby you’re going go in there and wow all the children with how smart you are and how funny you are. You can use that turtle pun on them. You remember how much that made me laugh. And then you’re going to make so many friends you’ll never have time for your dear old mommy and I’ll be forced to pick you up in my arms and never let you go so I never have to share you again.” I picked her up as I said this and twirled her around. Giggles exploded from her chest, shaking her tiny belly like the worlds cutest earthquake. “Okay mommy okay! Let me go! We can’t be together forever I need to go make friends”. Then she sauntered off to the first child she saw.

~

Dear you,

Today while I was making dinner, Jules asked me why she doesn’t have a father. She went on about how all the other first graders have fathers and yet she doesn’t. There was no animosity in her voice nor pain just confusion as if she couldn’t understand what was missing from the equation that equaled her life. I explained how she does have a father that loves her with all his heart, he just can’t be here right now. That quelled the questions and left a smile on her face. That was the second time I lied to her about you.

~

Dear you,

One of my coworkers asked me if my husband and I would like to join her and her husband on a double date next week. I felt the blood drain from my face. I hadn’t thought about you and me in while. I stammered out an explanation of how I’m a single mother. My coworker blushed apologetically before getting back to work. I could feel the burn where you drew a ring around my finger years ago saying ‘someday I’m gonna make you mine forever’. I remember responding with ‘I’m already yours forever’. I still am yours forever. The problem is you’re no longer mine.

~

Dear you,

Sometimes Jules asks me something and all I see are your eyes. It normally takes her repeating her question two or three more times before I can snap out of the past. Sometimes I love that I can see so much of you in her, allowing me to feel the echo of the love you once were capable of giving me. Sometimes I hate that your genes played any part in making her, forever anchoring me to the memory of you. But all of the time my love for Jules over shadows it all and me and you are just ingredients needed to make the creation that is her, no longer relevant since our job was completed.

~

Dear you,

I took Jules home for the holidays this year to visit my parents. She begged me to take her to the park and I did. I took her to our park. The one where we ate ice cream in the winter and drank hot chocolate in the summer. The one where we would go star-gazing when the nights were too vast for sleep to take us. The one where you first told me you loved me. You said it like it was a fact that had never not been true, like life had always been leading me to you and you’d known it all along. I took her to our park. It didn’t quite hurt as much.

~

Dear you,

Today, at age 10, Jules asked me the question I’ve dreaded the most, “Mom, will you tell me about you and dad?” She wasn’t a little girl anymore. She had known for while that she had a dad. Ever since then she had always wanted to know you, the you that created her, the you that no longer exists. I tried to mix in stories of you with the fairytales I told her as she drifted into dreams, to try and fill the void you left in her. But she had never asked the story of you and me. “Okay, Jules.” I took a breath, preparing for the past. “You see it all began one day at the ice cream shop I worked at in my youth. I was serving your father and his friends. I wasn’t paying them much attention because my shift was almost over and I was more than ready to scrub the dirt and grime off of my skin in a nice, warm shower. That shower was truly amazing, life-changing. I still remember it. Honestly might have been one of the best showers of my life—” Jules rolled her eyes at my rambling. “Okay, okay. The group eventually walked out the door and I turned around humming to myself before hearing the door ring again. I turned around to see your father. He had a crooked smile on his face and a glint of hesitation in his eyes before asking me, ‘So hypothetically how much ice cream does one have to buy in order to get your number?’ Yeah your father was a little bit pathetic but what can I say I’m a sucker for someone who can make me laugh even when the joke is him and he was always happy to deliver. So I gave him my number and we went on dates for the next couple of months but never became anything serious. Both of us were too afraid to be the one to define us. After four months of dating, we were walking around town one night after seeing some movie and we over heard a young girl say, ‘I want to be in a relationship like theirs when I’m older mom’. We both looked at each other, then our intertwined hands, then we smiled and shrugged and that was that. Neither of us knew how to address the future at that age so we lived in the moment. We went on road trips some weekends or we spent others in with takeout and movies. Instead of spending our nights dreaming, we dove into each other trying to unearth our secrets. We became archeologist dusting off thoughts long forgotten and archiving them as proof they were here. As we grew older, we got so lost in each other we forgot our fears of dreaming. We were able to find hope in each other, in the relics of our past. We began making plans and promises. He promised he’d love me and I promised I’d never leave him. This was around the time we found out about you growing in my belly. I remember the look on his face when I told him. His eyes flashed between joy and terror like a fire alarm before finally settling on love. He always denied it but I saw a couple tears leave his eyes. You see he was in love with you before he even saw you, Jules. You were it for him. And when you finally did come, man was he a wreck. You’d expect me to be the over-emotional panic-y one but no that was all him. Though when the nurse gave you to him to hold he settled, completely at peace. He helped the nurse give you your first bath. He simply couldn’t let you go.” Jules’ smile beamed up at me begging me to continue. “Well, after that we began life as a family. I must admit you were a bit of handful: screaming, crying, spiting up on yourself.” “Mommmm” Jules whined. “Hey I’m just saying being a parent is not the most glamorous job. The amount of times I was assaulted with poop is truly scary. Did you know newborns poop six to ten times a day?” “Mommm” “Fine, fine back to the story I get it. So the next couple of months were a little bit of blur to be honest. We were pretty sleep deprived and loopy so most of it blends into a continuous loop of rocking you back and forth. You were the cutest little thing when you feel asleep though. You often liked to hold our hands when you slept which was a bit of a problem at times but damn it was adorable.” My eyes glazed over as I lost myself in my favorite memories. “As you got older things settled a bit. Your father went back to work when you were about 5 months old and I decided to stay home with you. We both got a little more sleep, started having date nights, took you on small outings to the park or play dates.” I paused not really wanting to continue but seeing the look on Jules’ face I knew I needed to. “You had just turned 18 months old. He wanted to celebrate your half birthday. I’ve told you how into birthdays he was. He called me saying he was coming home from work early with a human sized stuffed monkey for you. I tried to hint at the fact that that might be a bit too extravagant of a gift for a one and a half year old but he pretended not to hear me claiming ‘he was going into a tunnel and we kept breaking up’. He did that whenever he didn’t want to hear my mommy lectures. I rolled my eyes and laughed waiting for him to come home. But, he never did. I was feeding you lunch when I got the call from his mom saying there had been an accident. I started rambling asking if his father was okay, if she needed me at the hospital, if there was anything I could do to help before she cut me off saying, ‘Laura its Daniel’. She repeated everything the police had told her but I couldn’t hear anything after killed on impact. Everything was jumbled around into meaningless noise, until I heard you cry. You broke me out of my trance. I looked at you and saw you staring at me with parted lips and tears leaking out the corners of your eyes. You looked so helpless as if you knew, as if you felt him leave this earth. I knew then I had to be strong for you and so I was.”

~

Dear you,

We created a girl filled to the brim with love. I’d like to think she got it from us.

Forever,

the girl who never left

~~~

Short story by Nicole Asherah. Nicole Asherah is an artist who tries to connect people to intimate moments, feelings, and relationships experienced throughout life through her poetry, paintings, and photography.

If you enjoyed this short story, check out:

Autumn Leaves

Lullabies