left unsaid.

Letter 7, 3/26/14

Hanna, sweetheart..

Today I finally was released from the hospital, on the requirement that I had someone stay with me. Or that I stay with someone else for the time being. I'm still considered a risk. Naturally, my sister stepped forward for the position. 

I forgot that you hadn't seen her in a while. God, she looks she grew up so much in those three months she was away at college. Though she claims she's just been visiting my parents, I know she flew down here to be near me for the time being. She must've been really glad for the fact that she was, or otherwise.. well, you know where I'd be right now. 

She decided that we had to go to the grocery store after I was discharged, because she'd seen how terrifying the options were in my fridge and cabinets. You remember how much she loves cooking, I'm sure. You'd always rave about her food whenever you had it. 

Just about when I'd thought we'd cleared out the whole store of food and made it out without running into anyone we knew; we ran into a rather familiar face.

It was your mom.

At first, she had frozen in place, her mouth dropped in a shocked 'o.' But then she cautiously approached me, with that easy smile on her face.. the same one that you always gave. Without words, she had twined her arms around my frail waist and pulled me close. 

When she released me from her embrace, she greeted my sister and I in turn. Then came a conversation I didn't think I'd ever have with her. 

With tears threatening to bubble over her eyes, she began. "Jacson, I was going to call you later today to check up on you. I heard about you and I wasn't  sure if it was a good idea or not to come and see you or... Oh my, look at my going on one of my tangents, sorry dear. Anywho.. I felt like I needed to apologize for my son's behavior. He's never been good at dealing with... upsetting things. He told me what happened and I was just so horrified. Jac, you have to know that it wasn't your fault at all. You can't control an alchoholic's actions or anyone else's for that matter, there wasn't anything you could do."

She was silent for awhile, a few of those tears spilling over and rolling slowly down her cheeks. 

"I would really love it if you could come over and talk with me and Charles over dinner. We've been discussing a lot of things recently and we've agreed that us never really having a conversation with you about all this wasn't the way to go. Any night that works for you, is fine with us, though we would be happy if you could on... on Hanna's... birthday. You don't have to give me an answer right away, but we'd love it if you could, dear."

At first, I was going to try and get out of it, because I knew that you weren't going to be there. And that your parents would only try to be happy about everything by bringing up their favorite memories of you and were only going to touch lightly on the things that really needed to be talked about, despite what your mom said. 

But if you knew that I'd rejected their offer, you would've told me I was being selfish. That I was only thinking of how I felt about it and now how your mom or dad would feel. Then you'd give me the silent treatment until I fixed it or I went out and got you your favorite desert (which only worked out for me around the holidays because it was eggnog ice cream.)

So I told her that of course I'd come, that I wouldn't miss it for anything. Because it was your birthday of course. 

I didn't add that I had hoped that the talk she seemed to want to have would help me settle my guilty feelings once and for all. 

You should've seen her face baby doll, it lit up brighter than our Christmas tree. She hugged me once more, told me that she'd call me to set a time. And with that she scurried off.

My sister seemed to be the most shocked of all, though she didn't say anything. We just finished picking out the items she thought she needed, went through the check-out and made our way back to our apartment. 

Now she's cooking in the kitchen as I write this letter, still feeling empty from that medicine they prescribed me. I'm not sure if she's going to let me bring this to you tonight, so I'm sorry if it's late, sweetheart.

Just remember that I love you, and that I'll do anything for you.

-Jacson

(P.s.  I found a sealed letter with my name on it under our bed, that's scripted in your loopy cursive. I tried to open it, but I don't think that I can right now. I'm afraid what I would find in the last words I'll ever hear from you.)