Tag Archives: reflections

Dearest Daughter: 15 years 4 months (exactly)

Dearest Daughter,

First, lemme say Happy New Year! Hope the first fifteen days of 2016 have been going well for you.

Secondly, I’d like to apologize for not writing for so long. I don’t want to make up any excuses so I’ll just say I’m sorry. I must’ve started a letter two or three times a month and never finished it. I cannot promise I won’t miss anymore but at least you know I’m trying to make an effort.

Soooooo it’s been a rather long three months. Lemme think… what have you missed?

OH! Well you have a new cousin. Born September 25th. He’s the cutest little chunky monkey. He’s got big o’ cheeks and ham hocks for legs. How I wish you could meet him. You’d just fall in love. He makes my heart sing when your Auntie sends me pictures.

Speaking of cousins, I finally met one of your other cousins on his 5th birthday in November. He’s just as adorable in person as he is in his pictures. His little glasses makes him look so darn handsome. Your other aunt sent a text the other day and said he has pink eye and a respiratory infection. Poor baby! Hopefully he feels better soon.

Oh you’re gonna have a new cousin in March. My BabySis is pregnant with her first child. We’re all very excited about this baby.

Okay that’s all for the baby/cousin updates. You have more cousins that I can count. And I’m sure on your biological dad’s side there are even more. Speaking of your biological dad, your older brother just turned 16 in December. It’s pretty crazy thinking about the two of you because you’re so close in age. But I pray that one day you’ll be able to meet.

Have you started school yet? I know you’re going to a private school so I’m not certain if you start the spring semester at the same time as the public schools here. Hopefully school is going well and that you’re keeping up with your classes and homework.

I hope and pray you’re doing well baby girl. I miss you more than I can even stand. Every time my co worker talks about her daughter and niece, who are only but four months and days younger than you, a part of me just melts. I wonder what kind of relationship we would have. I wonder if I would be a good mom to you and give you a good life. Sometimes it’s just hard to think about you because in the back of my mind I still feel like I’ve failed you.

Anyway… I should sign off before I start bawling in the middle of Starbucks.

Hope you have a wonderful day baby girl. And please remember I love you I love you I love you!


In the Rearview Mirror

So I’m zooming down the highway this afternoon and I see a gentleman in my rear view mirror who reminds me of my mother’s ex husband. I can only assume he was traveling home from work. From what I could see, he was wearing a crisply pressed white button down shirt with cuff links and a dark colored tie. It was sorta surreal because the gentleman really favored tutu and my grandfather Red. As I was noticing his features while trying not to run into the Tahoe in front of me, I got to thinking about the person who is half responsible for creating my brothers and me.

I wonder if he thinks about us. I wonder if he hadn’t become strung out on drugs if my brothers and I would have grown up together with the same mom. I won’t lie and say I’ve never imagined how different my life would be. Sometimes I think it would be great. Other times not so much. I mean would I have had the childhood I had if my mother’s ex husband would have been a real man and father instead of a drug addict. Would my brothers and I be close? Would we have more siblings?

Of course if any of that had been true, I’m pretty sure LOL my oldest brother and I would be the only kids. If we fight like we do as adults, I can only imagine how incredibly rotten we would have been as teenagers. Of course this is all speculation. I have no way of knowing what could or would have happened between Tutu and his ex wives.

I suppose the truth of the matter and the gist of this post is that I actually miss the old bastard. Even though I have nothing at all nice or mean spirited to say to him, I genuinely wish I could call him more than by his first name, Tutu, my mother’s ex husband or the sperm donor. I wish I could look past the abandonment, the usage and addiction to drugs and the total lack of respect for my brothers and me as the adults became despite not having him around.

Thanks for reading…

The Southern Yankee