Unsent Letter: 002

August 14, 2024

Dear Mom,

I hope you're doing well. How are grandma and grandpa? I miss them. A lot. I'm sorry I didn't make it to New York like I promised. I'll get there. Eventually.

I'm sorry, but you're gone, and I cannot change that. My kids matter more than driving the eight-plus hours to your grave. I know I said I'd do it, and I will, but it's hard. Ya know? A lot has happened. A lot has changed. I'm different now.

I'm not going to lie, it's been rough in therapy. Having to remember all of the bad. I had forgotten so much pain. Reliving it has not been easy. But our lives were anything but easy.

There's so much I wish had gone differently, but there's nothing I can do about it now. My therapist taught me to relive the memory and reparent my childhood self with the correct parenting strategy. As a way to build a new memory. A correct one.

I'm writing now. A lot. I love it. I doubt anyone will read much of it. But it's not really for them. Not yet anyway. It's for me.

I'm worried about Madison. I want to defeat what you couldn't. I don't want to be lost to it, in my shapeless, formless false dreams. Those moments, while exciting, are not true. They're not real. My children are real, and that's what matters.

I want to live to old age. Unless what that gypsy woman said is true. Older than you. I want to be the grandfather to my grandkids that you couldn't be.

Anyway, say hi to everyone. All my love,
Bradley