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Maybe they should have given him the house instead of me. It would have saved me the trouble of dealing with this nagging feeling all summer. It would have saved me from ruining the one good thing to happen to me in a long time.
I don’t need this letter. I should just tear it up and leave. I don’t need them.
The envelope remains unopened as I cradle it to my chest.
That’s a fucking lie, Sally, and you know it.
I peer in, seeing two letters inside. Pulling the first one out, I unfold it.
Dear Sally,
I can’t believe we are going to be seeing you soon. I don’t know what your foster moms have told you about our talks, but they told us you’ll be graduating high school next year, and you’ve already been accepted to Grace Hill University. To think my daughter is going to an Ivy League… I don’t think that would have happened if you had stayed with us. I’ve struggled a lot thinking I should regret you going to live with the Reeds, but then I hear about these opportunities you have with them, and I think it’d be selfish of me to regret all of this. I’m not sure if you’ll want to see us, but we want to see you. It’s still kind of weird to think I have a daughter and not a son, but maybe you grew into looking like me, and those thoughts make me want to see you more than anything. It might surprise you to see us, but we have plans to visit next year and congratulate you on graduating. Your foster moms don’t know about it, but it will be a surprise for everyone. I’m happy for you, Sally. I hope you can forgive us.
Love, your mom, Christina.
They were planning to visit me.
Is that when they got into the accident? They were on their way to see me, and then boom, everything ended for them. This was on their body when they might have meant to give it to me.
My eyes focus on the fact that she’s calling me her daughter and herself my mom. I haven’t really thought of her as anything else but being the one that carried me. My birth mom. But to her, she’s my real one. To her, Ma and Mama are just the replacements.
Ma and Mama are my real moms, and nothing will change that. They helped me become the woman I am today, and they still help me when I struggle to see the value in my existence.
I lay the letter down next to the grave.
There’s one more letter in my hand that I shakily unfold to see my father’s handwriting.
Dear Simon Sally,
Your mom asked me if I’d write something for when we visit. I didn’t really see a point until she showed me a picture of you smiling at prom with your adopted sister. I saw a lot of your mother in that picture. You had her smile and my hair. A weird combination that I used to not like. Your mom and I were young and dumb when we had you, and that caused a lot of problems I didn’t want to deal with as a teen dad. I wanted to be a kid still with a girl he loved, and unfortunately, I thought you were in the way of that, and it made me resentful. I’m glad you found a loving family. We both got to live the lives we wanted.
Damian.
That’s it? This is the only contact I’ve had from my birth dad since CPS took me away. No apologies for how I was treated badly by them? Just being told I had it good for getting placed in a wonderful family.
With burning eyes, I place the letter down next to Christina’s and stare at the gravestone.
Hot tears stream down my cheeks, and a sob bubbles out. I don’t even recognize the voice coming out of me. It’s incoherent like this is all my mouth can muster.
What was I even expecting? Did I really want them to apologize for treating me like the worst mistake of their lives?
I hope you can forgive us.
They just wanted to be forgiven. I wanted a reason to forgive them. I wanted a reason to be the better person.
“I have a wonderful family,” I say to the gravestone, imagining Christina and Damian. “They love me more than anything in the world. They gave me what you couldn’t. I’m Sally Reed. I will never be a Gordon.”
A breeze picks up, like nature is whipping around in solidarity with my voice.
“I don’t forgive you. You hated our life so much that there was no room for loving me. I don’t hate you, but that’s not for you; it’s for me.” I take a deep breath, wiping the tears away. “I don’t hate you anymore because I need peace of mind to move on and live the life you refused to give me. I can’t let the past consume me because the future is all we really have to live for.”
I don’t know what else to say, so I don’t continue.
“Goodbye.”
With that, I walk away from them, leaving their letters behind—the last things that hold memories of them.
It doesn’t take long for me to return to the house and throw myself on the bed. My body feels tired from the outburst of emotions.
