Unsent Letter: 003

Summer 2025

Dear Mom,

How are you?

We're doing well. Maya is growing like a weed, as they say. She's babbling so much now, and she has the sweetest little personality. Last week, when I walked outside, she screamed, "Dad-da!" Then she did this thing she always does—she lifts her little legs and drags them against my shins as if she's saying, Pick me up, Dad. It's impossible to say no.

Anyway, the kids—Madison and Bronxton—are here this week. It's summer, and it's really hot, but that's nothing new.

I took Madison to see Les Misérables. Mom, it was incredible. Such a beautiful performance. It was so beautiful that I started crying because all I could think about was you and me going to see Phantom of the Opera in Toronto. For a little while, it felt like you were sitting beside me again.

Maddie and I are growing closer. She's so much like you that it's uncanny. Quiet. Reserved. She just wants to know she's loved. Roxanne doesn't seem to understand her and sometimes calls her weird. I don't understand that. I think she tries too hard with both kids, especially Maddie, and it only seems to make things worse. Still, I'm doing my best with all of them. Bronxton has been a little resentful lately, though, and some of his comments sting.

Maya loves me so much. She's such a happy little girl. We went to Las Vegas last month, and we spent nearly every day floating down the lazy river. She would ride on my chest on her hands and knees, just looking around, taking everything in with those curious little eyes. I think I'll remember that trip until the day I die.

Anyway, I have surgery coming up for my back. I'm scared. Not so much of the surgery itself, but that my heart will somehow give out. As much as I want to be with you and the rest of our family someday, I'm not ready. I can't leave yet. These kids need me. Maddie especially.

So, if you can, send me your love. Send me your prayers. Help me make it through.

I miss you every day.

With all my love,
Bradley