Dear Suzanne,
First of all, I remember that time you fell in the playground, you screamed so loud I thought someone had pushed you. Kids can be mean, we all know that. I looked around but you were alone. Kiddo, I'm sorry I didn't kiss your knees and told you it was going to be okay. Instead, I pulled you up and told you that big girls don't cry. I told you there would be worse things and I exposed your young mind to what a terrible world it really was.
I remember, looking back now I realize I was wrong to have done that. You were just a little girl and I had seen too much horrible things to be a loving mom that carried around unicorn stickers. So now I'm going to tell you what I couldn't that day at the park. Its going to be okay, mommy's right here. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, you can let go now, I've got you. The world is a wonderful place, of course it had its bad side too but you have to let yourself live. Don't be scared, you're going to be alright, I promise.
Secondly, please don't think that I was snooping on you. I was in your room and I was honestly just...looking for you. It seems that you are no longer the confused nineteen year old girl that left for London so young. You scared me so much, even when you were barely a teenager. You took risks, you were your own boss and always so stubborn. And then there was Ross, you never told me about him. But it became clear that the leather jacketed man that walked the block everyday was there for you.
You were so talented, so naive and so still so angry with me. Angry with your father for the divorce, angry at me because it was all my fault and angry at your brother for leaving. I was convinced Ross was just a part of growing up, a phase, mistaken teenage love but it was much more wasn't it? I should have paid more attention.
When you left for London without so much as a warning it scared me more than you could ever imagine. I know that I let you go but at the time I was just as stuck with my life. These mistakes of adulthood are no less terrifying that those of adolescence and I should have protected you from strange nights with strange men that smelled of whiskey and smoke. At the time I felt I had no say in what you did with your life, you had a door right open and I was too distracted and stubborn to see even that.
We were never close and when in your senior year you had a complete breakdown and grew so depressed I didn't know how to comfort you. The money for therapy never came and you reminded me far too much of myself. When you left I felt I had no right to stop you. I just forgot for a while that I was still your mom. I forgot for that I wasn't in any way the college girl that just went into a downward spiral her second year.
I'm sorry.
I know this apology is long overdue but I am no longer the alcoholic that sank as low to cry where her children could hear. But you need to know that I wasn't aware of what I was doing to you, what I was doing to everyone around me. I know I was never the best mother but I promise you this, I tried. Motherhood is all about trying to be your best, don't give up when you feel like you're failing. Someday you might have children of your own, and I only hope that you won't make the same mistakes I did. You're strong Suzanne, you aren't like me.
I'm sorry I was never here, I'm sorry I didn't give you the best of me. I'm sorry for all those things I said that I didn't even realize I was in fact saying. I know that sorry won't mend the sorrow you've let go of in these letters but I am truly very sorry. I'm old now, with a coldness in the very depths of my bones and lost sensations, all I have now are memories and those can be so bitter. All I hope for now is forgiveness.
As for love and happiness, if there's one thing I've learned in life its that when it comes to those two none of us are victims. There is always a choice. I know you did not ask for it but my advice is to choose the one that loves you. Cares about you and most of all, the one that stands by you. Let go Suzanne, let go of your past and the people in it. The past does not define who you are. It's only a brief memory of who you were.
Still there are so many things I want to say, so many things I should have said a long time ago. So much to catch up to, but you're just on the other side of the wall. And that is the only condolence I have right now in my loneliness that I brought upon myself. The fact that you are back home is my only hope. Hope that you turned out okay, that you're okay. So now we can talk, because you're right here.
These words have been left unsaid for far too long now, I cling on to the feeling that its not too late yet. Now it's almost morning, and I'm going to go stare into the sunrise, listen to your quiet snores and pretend like I didn't do half a bad job of raising my children.
And remember, you are my daughter, you will always be my daughter and I care about you.
Your mother,
Bonnie
~
The End
