Letters For You

Our Family (ies)

Write about family, yours or your dream one Thursday, October 19th,2017

By Emily Davis

Our families are very different. Mine is a lot more permissive than yours. While your mother wanted to know where you were at all times, mine let me do pretty much what I wanted. While you were begging your mother to let you eat pizza, mine was ordering one every Friday. While you were begging your father to stop obsessing over your grades, I wanted mine to care more so badly. While you were screaming at your mother to stop asking so many questions, I was wishing mine would ask more. While you were trying to get out of Sunday night dinner with your grandparents, I wished my father came back early enough from work so that I would get to see him before bed. I guess we both wanted what the other had. I wanted support, you wanted freedom.

Our family would have been different. It would have been a mix of our families. We would keep pizza night on Fridays but eat more healthy meals the rest of the week. We would have dinner with the grandparents once a month. We would ask the right amount of questions. We would care just enough. We would have had the happiest family, the perfect family. Two loving parents who love each other more than anything, too many kids and let's not forget our Labrador.

I saw your mother last weekend. She is good, or at least she's getting there. Just like me. We are both getting there. Slowly. She is still the same. Though she changed in so many ways. She doesn't care so much about the way she looks anymore. She drinks coffee now. I know you're shocked. I can only imagine your face. You had to hide your coffee addiction for so long. She reads more. More books I mean. Not cooking books about how to best reduce your trans-fat consumption. She reads novels now. She even asked me if I had any recommendations. I suggested Harry Potter. "Everyone needs a little magic," was my selling argument. I also suggested Fifty Shades. That didn't go as well... It made her laugh though, so, I guess it was a success. Want to guess what she is reading now? Lord of the rings. She went into your room to get it. "I wanted to read about the thing he couldn't stop talking about. I wanted to understand his fascination," she said. She hates it apparently. But she keeps reading. She even bought the DVD to watch with your dad once she's done.

We went to see you later that day. Your grave I mean. We stopped for flowers and everything. I spent three hours just laying on the stone, caressing your name every so often. Did you know someone planted a tree? Right beside you. There is a maple tree growing beside you. It's still small but it's getting there. Just like me. Just like your mother. We are all getting there.

I am going to shock you now. Are you ready? Your mom asked me where we used to go for lunch together, so I took her to IHop. She had what you used to order. New York cheesecake pancakes. She almost threw up. It was so funny to watch.

She misses you and so do I. I slept in your bed that night. I slept in your bed with your little sister. Your room is still the same. And on the next morning, I had some sunny-side-up eggs cooked without butter and some turkey bacon. Right before I left, I went back into your room and stole a couple of things. I stole some of your socks because you know how my feet always get cold and my socks can never warm me up. I took your Ramones t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. The ones you used to wear when we stayed home all day to watch movies. When I opened your radio, I saw your Shania Twain CD was still in it so I took it, put it in its box and put it in my purse. I heard your voice in my head saying how that good an album deserves to be listened to. On the bus back to Portland, I played it in my phone. 

Your mom and I have never been closer. Losing you brought us closer. I lost you but I won't lose your mother. I am closer to your mother than I am to my own. I turned to yours when you disappeared. I visited your mother, not my own that weekend. It didn't even cross my mind to stop at my house. And I think my mom is upset about it. What do they say? That you don't get to chose your family. Well for almost four years, you were my family. And when I lost you, I chose to stay close to yours. Because they knew you. They knew you as well as I did. I can't talk about you to my mom the same way I talk to yours. She wouldn't understand, so, I chose you. I'll always choose you. You are my family.