Truths that haunt.
November 15, 2010
I have not written to you in a couple of weeks and I am so very sorry. Since the last time I wrote you, I had an ultrasound and you were doing really great. Your heartbeat was super strong. It sounded beautiful and tears just streamed down my face. Your heart was beating 176 beats per minute. The nurse said you looked perfect. I didn’t want the ultrasound to end. I loved seeing you and hearing your heartbeat. I have never felt such joy.
Today my heart is forever broken. You are still in my tummy but your beautiful little heart is still and silent. You are now in Heaven. I am devastated. I have never felt such intense pain or grief in my entire life. You were my miracle, my hope, my grace and my whole heart.
Mommy has so much more to say to you but I can’t find the words right now. I pray you are safe and in the arms of a sweet angel. Today is the saddest day of my life. They gave me your pictures today. You are so beautiful. I will carry you in my heart forever. You are my heart.
I love you forever,
Mommy
November 15, 2011.
I am so very sad. Do you know how much I miss you and long for you? The pain I feel is beyond any I have ever known. I grieve you every passing second.
That horrible day plays over and over in my mind. I will never forget the nurse looking at me and saying that your heartbeat was gone. She shut off the machines and told me she was sorry. I was all alone. I sobbed and screamed out but there was no one listening. I had to get dressed and walk out into a waiting room filled with pregnant mothers that were waiting to see their babies. The nurse handed me your pictures and told me someone would come to get me. I was told that I could either have surgery that afternoon or go home and wait to deliver you on my own. I was in shock. I was alone. I was frightened. My Doctor told me that she recommended surgery. I nodded okay.
I fear the ultrasound was wrong. I feel in my heart it was. I have nightmares about it. What if you were still with me? I am so sorry my sweet baby. I wish I could go back to that day and change everything. I would give everything I own for you to still be with me. I am tormented by the constant thought that I killed you. Waking up from surgery and looking down at my blood soaked gown was horrific beyond words. The nurse said that I just cried for an hour saying, “my baby is dead”. I came home that night and laid in bed for a week. I felt truly dead.
I will love you for all eternity. My greatest prayer for the rest of my life will be that I get to hold you in Heaven one day. I pray you are safe and loved and know how much I love and miss you.
Mommy
November 15, 2014.
Not a day goes by that you are not in my constant thoughts and in my heart. These last four years have been the worst of my life. I carry so much guilt and shame and my heart is so burdened with the secrets I carry. It is my fault that you died. I am so sorry that I could not protect you from him. I am sorry that I married him. I am sorry that he was your Father. I am sorry that I didn’t leave him before this happened. I am sorry I couldn’t break away from him. I fought him with every ounce of my strength. I begged him to stop. I screamed at the top of my lungs ” Please don’t hurt my baby” but he was too drunk to care. I am so terribly sorry.
Mommy
I heard this apology at a story telling show called Rant & Rave in Los Angeles, CA.
I have probably heard somewhere near 1000 stories in venues like this in my lifetime.
As cliche as it sounds, prepare to laugh and cry. Well well worth your 15 minutes.
Tanya McClure is a writer and director and an alumnus of The Groundlings Theatre Sunday Company. Which is to say she’s a real humor aficionado. She can make you laugh your balls off, but she can rip your heart out, too. And lately, she’s discovered she’s more into hearts than balls anyway. Take a listen and see what I mean.
Follow Tanya here: WEBSITE FACEBOOK TWITTER
This video is the jam.
We received this letter in the mail. No post mark. No return address. No opening or closing salutation.
“It may come to you as a shock, but I’ve never done this before. I’m too scared to confront people that I think don’t want anything to do with me.
I told someone really important to me on their death bed about what happened between us, and she told me to make things right. I talked to someone else about it more recently, and she told me that I get to respect your wishes to not contact you and (should) work on forgiving myself. I will probably never see you again and will never hear your side of the story and for that, I hate myself, because I’m pretty sure you hate me now. I was quick to judge based off my own past experiences and you took offense. I guess I had missed the mark completely. Is this the part where I say I’m sorry? I feel like those two words can’t really change much or fix anything.
Apparently, the process of apologizing is to lighten the load on me, so I guess it’s pointless to even write this, and the freedom will come when I start to actually forgive and love myself. The same person who did told me not to contact you also told me to accept the fact that I may die alone and never experience love and that people will then be attracted to that peace within me. God, that idea just seemed even more depressing.
I’ve come to the conclusion, though, that it’s probably best for me to be alone, then to be with someone who loves someone else, or to fall for guys who don’t really care about who I am. Right after things ended, I did get with someone else, and everything I accused you of, was in reality, were the arms that I ran directly into, and that, in fact, wasn’t what you were about at all. I’m sorry I fucked things up. I’m sorry for being fucked up. I wish you nothing but happiness and success, and I’m sorry for causing you even more pain than you were already in at the time.”
Dear Beloved,
I apologize for wanting you to love me so much that I did us both a disservice by forgiving the unforgivable… over and over and over. Too many times.
It never worked.
I shouldn’t have tried twice.
To the driver who beeped at me for going out of turn at the 4way stop, 34th and 290 Feeder, 4:15 PM Friday 3/21: I was wrong; you were right. Sorry.
I’m sorry that I have let you down.
I am sorry that I don’t tell you I love you more; look at you and see how beautiful you are, or appreciate all you have been through.
I am sorry that I ignore your needs and wants and instead focus on your failures.
I’m sorry that after all you have accomplished in this life, I still focus on what you have not done. I do not recognize your achievements and successes. I do not notice how hard you work on a daily basis to live life to the fullest. I focus on your failures, where you are lacking, and how others have accomplished more. Instead of praise, I belittle you. Instead of seeing your beauty, I see how others are more. Instead of loving you for exactly who you are, I look for why I could love you more if only you did this or that. I am sorry.
I am sorry for the heart breaks I have caused you. For not seeing your value and potential at all times. For not recognizing you are the greatest gift I have ever been given from our Father and the Creator of the Universe. You are exactly who you are supposed to be in this exact moment. Everything you have already accomplished is far greater than anything I could have ever expected in life. You are more beautiful than anything I could perceive. You are more successful than you were yesterday, a month ago, a year ago, 10 years ago. You will continue to outshine in this life and go places you never thought were possible.
I am sorry for holding you back until this moment.
But I promise, from here on out, I will step out of your way and watch you soar. When everything starts to be hard again (which it will, this is life), I promise to build you up and support you. When you start to cry, I promise to make you feel special again and loved.
When life gets too serious, I promise to remind you to laugh and not take it so seriously.
When you don’t want to get out of bed, I promise to remind you why you started this path in the first place. I promise to take care of you and love you always. I promise to work to keep you healthy and strong- mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I promise to look after your well-being. I promise to tell you how much I love you as much as possible and remind you of your beauty.
When your past becomes baggage, I promise to help you carry it. To see your scars of pain as reminders of your strength. I promise, this life will have it’s ups and downs, but I am with you and for you, and together, we can do this!
To My Dear Big Brother,
I’m sorry I couldn’t be enough for you. I’m sorry that my choices and taste in clothes made you uncomfortable because I didn’t follow the same gender norms all of your girl friends did. I’m sorry I was depressed all the time and couldn’t pull out of it. I’m sorry I liked riding bikes with you instead of playing with dolls. You were so cool and comfortable; I just wanted to be like you. I wanted what you had, which of course, meant I would never achieve it.
To you, it was simple, if I changed my clothes, more people will like me; I’d have friends and be less lonely. You didn’t know that it doesn’t work like that. You had no idea what you were doing to me. Backhandedly, I think you even thought you were helping.
But that wasn’t me. I couldn’t pretend to be something I wasn’t and that made the loneliness worse. I couldn’t escape the discomfort. At school, I was an outcast, at home, a disappointment.
I’ve always alternated between arrogance and feeling worthless and never being able to make you proud added to that pile. Between rejecting your acceptance and needing it, I left myself totally conflicted. I’m sorry I gave you so much power over me. I’m sorry I trusted that you knew what was right for me and doubted myself for so many years. I’m sorry I was so much for you to deal with…And, I’m sorry I embarrassed you. You really were my best friend and arch nemesis and I could never win with you.
We had glimpses of pulling out of the rivalry and I genuinely believe if we had a little more time, we would have become the friends that were reflected by how close we really were.
I’m sorry you died before we got the chance to work through it. I’m sorry you won’t get to see how I’ve turned out. You didn’t see me get my drivers license or graduate high school and college. You didn’t get to see me thrive in the grimy town I glamorized while growing up with you in that shithole. You won’t meet my kids or joke with the love of my life. You didn’t get to see the world and you’ll never know the joy of getting stamps in your passport. I’m sorry you’ll never see fireworks around the Eiffel Tower or know what it’s like to sleep on a rooftop terrace in Africa in the middle of summer. I’m sorry you didn’t get to see how fun being an adult could be.
It’s been ten years and I’m now seven years older than you were and I’m sorry you missed out on so much.
A Lonely Little Sister