[letter to Lily]
Dear Lily,
Or should I call you Jessi now? All your postcards were Lily, but I guess that last name is your actual name now, isn't it? I mean, we all knew you'd changed your name when no search turned you up by your birth name. So maybe let me start this letter over:
Dear Jessi,
It is so good to hear from you like this -- an actual letter, I mean. Not that I didn't love your postcards, or hope that every time I opened my mailbox that I'd find one, but a letter was more than I let myself hope for, after awhile. I admit that I might have cried, a bit. Partly from relief that I could finally talk to you, and partly because I thought I knew what that return address meant.
I'm so sorry. You don't know how hard it is not to pack some kind of weapon in my suitcase -- by the way, I've booked tickets already and I'll be there next Thursday -- though I'm sure the airlines wouldn't look too kindly on that. I don't know what else to say. You know how I've always felt about Kaden and I know how you felt about him. I guess I'll just leave it, right now, with the usual "please tell me if he hurts you".
That's not what I should be dwelling on in this letter anyway. So.
I'm glad Justin's your kid, you know? After all that you've written to me about him, even if it's in brief little three-sentence blurbs, I was hoping that someday I'd be able to meet this kid. I guess I get to now, huh? Besides, your pride kind of bled through even in post cards. ;) So I suspected.
I am sorry about James. I don't know what else to say, but I'm glad you found someone to love like that. I'm deeply sad you lost him, and I'm a little sad I never got to meet him either. I wish so often that I'd been able to stay in your life somehow, even though I understand why you had to do it. Even if I hardly ever spoke to our family, I'm not sure they wouldn't have gotten it out of me. Sometimes I still feel like they're watching me, everything I'm doing, even though everyone considers me a failure.
I've been doing well for myself. Even without the family's help, same as you. Mom still sends me money every once in awhile without my requesting it, and I don't want to imagine the hell she gets for that -- I keep telling her to stop and that I don't need it, but you know how Mom is with her girls and I guess this is the only thing she can do for me. I'm sure she would have done ten times more for you. But anyway, I finished my second undergrad degree -- environmental science, this time -- and am in grad school for, of all the random things, linguistics. I think I'm destined to be in school forever; call me crazy, but I'm considering going back and doing another undergrad after this. I don't know for what yet, though. I guess I can blame my calling for all this. It doesn't seem fair that we failures still get the genetics, does it?
Oh! Like I mentioned briefly, I've already booked tickets down there. Next Thursday through Sunday. It's short, but it's all I could get away from school and work and, well, with short notice. I'll be flying into O'Hare at 6pm, but I can find my way to wherever if you don't have time to get me or anything. You know, in case you didn't notice I was writing this on the back of the itinerary or anything. And we'll see each other again at Easter, then, I suppose. It's California this year.
Right, reaching the end of the itinerary now, so I guess I'll leave this with a 'see you soon' and more love. I'm not angry at you at all. I know why you did what you did, and I don't blame you for it. You did what you had to do.
Love,
Jane Sumiko
Or should I call you Jessi now? All your postcards were Lily, but I guess that last name is your actual name now, isn't it? I mean, we all knew you'd changed your name when no search turned you up by your birth name. So maybe let me start this letter over:
Dear Jessi,
It is so good to hear from you like this -- an actual letter, I mean. Not that I didn't love your postcards, or hope that every time I opened my mailbox that I'd find one, but a letter was more than I let myself hope for, after awhile. I admit that I might have cried, a bit. Partly from relief that I could finally talk to you, and partly because I thought I knew what that return address meant.
I'm so sorry. You don't know how hard it is not to pack some kind of weapon in my suitcase -- by the way, I've booked tickets already and I'll be there next Thursday -- though I'm sure the airlines wouldn't look too kindly on that. I don't know what else to say. You know how I've always felt about Kaden and I know how you felt about him. I guess I'll just leave it, right now, with the usual "please tell me if he hurts you".
That's not what I should be dwelling on in this letter anyway. So.
I'm glad Justin's your kid, you know? After all that you've written to me about him, even if it's in brief little three-sentence blurbs, I was hoping that someday I'd be able to meet this kid. I guess I get to now, huh? Besides, your pride kind of bled through even in post cards. ;) So I suspected.
I am sorry about James. I don't know what else to say, but I'm glad you found someone to love like that. I'm deeply sad you lost him, and I'm a little sad I never got to meet him either. I wish so often that I'd been able to stay in your life somehow, even though I understand why you had to do it. Even if I hardly ever spoke to our family, I'm not sure they wouldn't have gotten it out of me. Sometimes I still feel like they're watching me, everything I'm doing, even though everyone considers me a failure.
I've been doing well for myself. Even without the family's help, same as you. Mom still sends me money every once in awhile without my requesting it, and I don't want to imagine the hell she gets for that -- I keep telling her to stop and that I don't need it, but you know how Mom is with her girls and I guess this is the only thing she can do for me. I'm sure she would have done ten times more for you. But anyway, I finished my second undergrad degree -- environmental science, this time -- and am in grad school for, of all the random things, linguistics. I think I'm destined to be in school forever; call me crazy, but I'm considering going back and doing another undergrad after this. I don't know for what yet, though. I guess I can blame my calling for all this. It doesn't seem fair that we failures still get the genetics, does it?
Oh! Like I mentioned briefly, I've already booked tickets down there. Next Thursday through Sunday. It's short, but it's all I could get away from school and work and, well, with short notice. I'll be flying into O'Hare at 6pm, but I can find my way to wherever if you don't have time to get me or anything. You know, in case you didn't notice I was writing this on the back of the itinerary or anything. And we'll see each other again at Easter, then, I suppose. It's California this year.
Right, reaching the end of the itinerary now, so I guess I'll leave this with a 'see you soon' and more love. I'm not angry at you at all. I know why you did what you did, and I don't blame you for it. You did what you had to do.
Love,
Jane Sumiko