The Letter

Eileen asked if I wrote letters to my daughter. I hate to say that I don’t. I have given her cards with little things written in it. I take that back. I have written her letters. Every summer for the past five years she has gone to church camp. I have written her letters while she is at camp. She keeps them in a box under her bed.

That question reminded me about a letter my mom wrote me once.

My parents separated and divorced my senior year in high school. School had started that year and we were all still living in the same house. That year I was on the yearbook staff and we had to sell ads to local businesses. That meant that we were able to leave campus for a few hours during school. One day for some reason I stopped by my house. I noticed when I pulled up to the house that my mom’s car was gone. As I went in to the house, I noticed that our dog that stayed in the house was gone too. So I knew right away that 1) my mom wasn’t home and 2) she took the dog with her.

Now usually that was no big deal for a stay-at-home mom. She was always shopping or running errands and the dog loved to go in the car with her. But what caused my heart to sink to the bottom of stomach was when I turned the corner to walk in to my bedroom. There was an envelope lying on my bed with my name written across it in my mom’s handwriting. I almost threw up right there. I just knew that she gone. That she had had enough and left.

I opened the letter, reading it fast, scanning the words. I knew that mom had been going through a rough time. I have told you all before that my dad took her to the brink of a nervous breakdown. I tried so hard to be a good daughter. I think that is why I was such a “good girl” during my high school years. I knew my mom had enough to deal with my dad and she didn’t me to further add to her turmoil or embarrass her anymore than he already had or did.

In the letter, she thanked me for unloading the dishwasher the night before and putting the dishes away, all without her having to ask me to do it. I don’t even remember doing it. She went on to tell me how much she loved me and that I was her strength. But that was it. It was a thank you letter. She wasn’t leaving! She would be home when I came back later that afternoon!

It was just a few years ago that I told her how much that letter scared the crap out of me! She and I had a good laugh about it. I am glad that I can laugh about it because my heart still beats fast when I picture that letter lying on my bed.