My world far from yours

Dear, Adelaide

Chapter 1: Dear, Adelaide

I remember each time the seasons changed. My mother would tell me stories on how the Gods would make it happen effortlessly. She said, "The Gods could make the world look different in the blink of an eye". I would always ask, "then why don't they? Why does it take so long for the snow to fall in the mountains and a storm to form?". Each time, without frustration, she'd say "To share the beauty"; and she'd smile at me. She'd say that they want us to experience the magnificent series of events that take place before the rain falls from the sky, the snow could touch the ground, and the heat from the biggest star could cause our skin to melt. I was always difficult and asked why would they do such a thing? Why have seasons at all? The last answer I'd get was "They're generous Gods".

You see, in my world, Gods are unknown to be real, like in yours. But, my mother always told me to have faith. Even if not in the Gods, then in something else; Anything I choose to believe in. So, I put my faith in her. In her words and with that, in her faith.

I doubted all Gods the day she grew wings. She battled against the greatest evils. In turn, I lost my faith. I lost all hope in good and stripped away my faith in her. I'm sure she resented me for that; As I resented her for not winning the fight. I am angry in her light, for I no longer see. You see the greatest evils are time, age, and sickness. So, I resented the Gods she believed in. For making her sick, making her weak, and for taking her from this world. She chose to fly to their gates instead of staying here, with us, with me. I strongly believed that.

That is, until I met you. I saw her faith in your eyes, your hope, your aspiration, and your grace. You're her replacement in an irreplaceable way. You're their apology. I see that it would have been selfish to have you both. I see they took her to send me you. They chose the most worthy of fighters to stand by them, rewarded her by giving her wings, and leaving us pieces of her to remember and keep. We were allowed to be selfish. So you, you were made for me.

I can not see her face, but I can see yours. I can not hear her voice, but I can hear her words through you. You will learn to speak in her name and be a gift to all, just as she was on land, just as she is now in the view of her Gods.

You, my child, will be the good when evil erupts and for that I send you off. You are to be safe in a world such as the one you grew to know. I fear, here, you will be taken, just as my mother was; Or worse, I from you. For I have felt that pain, but you, my dear girl, have not. So, I take you away from me, to be, and not to be, selfish. I will keep you from that pain and someday, when you no longer grow angry with me, you will understand that my choice was not made on mere fear for myself, but fear for you.

When time is rough and your heart aches, remember the Gods and the beauty of experience. Remember her words and think of me, for I am always thinking of you. And when you look into the aboves, know I am looking too, and she is watching over us

Love, An'da

For my dear, Adelaide

Those were the only words I ever heard from my father and they were spoken through his fingertips, given to me by someone else. I never knew what he meant by "in my world". I always assumed that he was poet and it meant something symbolic or maybe he had, or has, schizophrenia.

When I was just a few days old I was left outside of an orphanage with this letter stuck onto it. I was given the letter on my 13th birthday at the exact time they found me on the steps (9:34 P.M.). Every year since, on my birthday, I've read the letter to myself before bed and imagined what his voice would sound like if he had been reading it to me himself. I wanted to read it alone on those nights. It was the only time there was no one around to pity me and feel bad that I didn't have my father. It was the only time it wouldn't seem sad. I was allowed to imagine him and not feel bad for making others sad, when the fact is I'm no longer sad about it. In a way, that note was, what my father would say, the gods allowing me to be selfish. It was my piece of him as I was his piece of her.

I've always struggled with religion. I hear all around me that there is one God but my father speaks of many. It left me confused, with many questions. I also recollect my father saying "my world", which further made me conclude his "gods" were the voices in his head. So, when people ask if I'm religious my answer always changes. I say no because I don't have a specific religion and it's hard to explain that what I believe in is written in a letter by a man I never met. But, then again, so was the Bible. I say yes because I chose to admire the idea of having a grandmother, and the footprint she left in my father, to make him write that in a letter for me, the only words he has ever said to me. Since she taught him of God's, then I shall walk in the path she made for her lineage. If only I knew what that faith she left for us was.