Words on Paper

Letter number 16

Dear Gabriel.

Date: 7/5

First, happy birthday. You're getting old. You know, you'll retire soon. Only in like 40 years. 40 years isn't much when we're together - it will feel like a year or two. It's very early and I'm only up because of Alex, but I just needed to write you today before we celebrate your birthday later. I'm sending a package with my letter again with some presents I bought for you. It's really not a big deal. I've kept the expensive stuff with me and I'm only sending things I wouldn't care to lose. That's the rational thing to do, I know you'll think so, but I really want to do something irrational. I want to pack myself in and send me to you; I'm just not sure if you'll receive the package and I don't think it will be very pleasant to get carried around. So I'm sending a picture I got taken for some time ago by a professional photographer and an ultrasound of Alex. Happy birthday, Gabe. I love you.

I'm tired. I don't I can do this much longer; every time I close my eyes, he's crying. It's your turn to get out of bed to put our baby back to sleep. Your turn. Why do I have to do it every time? I know it's not possible and I know you wish you could be here too. Michelle promised to look after him last week so I could sleep a full night, but every time he cried, I still woke up. And even though Michelle was fast at calming him down, I just couldn't bear not being there, so I still got up and sang lullabies for him. Michelle is so nice, she helps with everything, but in the daytime, I just won't let go of him. She said she'd take him to the park in his baby carriage and then I could get some sleep, but when I saw them leaving, I thought I was gonna jump out of the window to follow. I let them go for a walk, but I couldn't sleep. For once, I turned on the news and watched it so carefully; I was so scared I something would happen. Breaking news, anything. I was so scared they wouldn't come back.

They did. Michelle brought him back home, and she found me sitting in front of the TV crying (and I know I shouldn't tell you this, but I cried) and she didn't understand why at first, but she just had to take one look at the TV and then she knew. I held Alex so close in my arms, I think I almost strangled him.

And since then, I haven't let her leave with him. I thought being an alone mother would be hard. It's not. It's worse. And now I can't even let my best friend babysit him without being scared something's gonna happen to him. I know she wouldn't steal him, but I'm scared someone else would. So I'll keep him close. I don't want him to leave. Gabriel, I need him here.

I think I might have talked too much about Alex. You haven't seen him yet, and I want it to be a surprise for you when you get home. You'll be back soon, right? I know you'll be back soon. I've never gone to church on Sundays and I've never prayed in my life, but now, I pray every day. Since the day you left, it was the worst July ever, I've prayed for you, for us. I talked to Michelle about it. She told me she prays too. I pray for you being alive. I pray for one day, when Michelle and I visit the airport, it'll be you who steps out the door. You'll carry this great bag and you'll be smiling and I'll be smiling and there'll be music playing in the back of our heads. You'll run towards me, I'll run towards you. You'll put your arms around me and lift me off the ground, spin me around. And then you'll kiss me and tell me you love me. You'll tell me how happy you are to see me and I'll tell you I've been waiting for you. And we'll be a family, you, me, Alex and all the kids we can get. Having a baby was hard, but now I have Alex, so it doesn't matter; I would go through a million births if it meant we could have more kids.

Michelle and I still visit the airport every Friday. It's a habit now. She drives and I sit behind her at the back seat with Alex. We wait in the airport all day on different restaurants and we sit on different benches talking. Sometimes we just wait and watch all the people who come out. You haven't been there yet, but I still hope.

Now we're at it, there's something I need to tell you. When you left I promised myself I would stay positive. I promised myself I wouldn't tell you any bad news and I would just tell you all the sugar-sweet stories, but I know I have told you all the wrong things. I just want you to know that you shouldn't worry about me, I'm fine. I've always told you when it hurt when you were with me, and now that you're not here, I can't tell you about it when it happens. I've tried my best to tell you funny stories and to involve you in everything, but I just can't sugar-coat it. I'm sorry. I know you have more important things to worry about and the fact that I'm sending you all my problems is just giving you more worries. So I'm sorry. I just don't have anyone to tell this to. Please forgive me. I want to undo it all now, I just can't.

I've started reading poems to Alex before he goes to sleep. I know he probably doesn't understand any of them, but I have to read them anyway. I understand them, that's what matters. I know you love poems, so maybe it's a way to connect with you. You might not be able to hear them, but I'm reading for you. I hope you think of me before you go to sleep, I hope the stars will help me communicate with you. Just look at the most glowing star and know that is me talking to you.

Love,

Your Claire