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It’s about me.
It’s about how my life was completely altered when my dad died. How I went from being a senior in high school, looking forward to the beginning of the rest of my life, and having it ripped out from underneath me. There are things I haven’t told you about how I lived in the years before we met. My childhood was normal, as were my teenage years – until the accident that took my dad’s life. I’d been looking forward to college – he was going to take me to get a reliable car two days after his accident – and I was ready to spread my wings.
If you’ve never lost a parent like that, it’s hard to explain, and even harder to fathom how your life changes with the snap of your fingers, or in the amount of time it takes to blink an eye. One moment things are moving forward and you have all the regular cares in the world, all the normal stresses of everyday life, and then you’re thrown into a whirlwind of emotions and experiences you’ve only seen on TV or read about. Maybe you’ve watched another friend go through it, but it’s all new and completely overwhelming.
As an only child, I was expected to stand beside her and be strong for her. I can’t tell you how many people mentioned to me that it was my time to be strong for her. Chance, I was seventeen-years-old. I could barely be strong for myself. And my mom? You know we don’t get along now, but I’d always seen her as such a strong person, a force of nature. It was the wrong time to find out she only had that strength because he was holding her up. When it was expected that I would hold her up, I failed, Chance.
I fucking failed.
I wasn’t able to give her what she needed, but in turn, she wasn’t able to give me what I needed either. College was an afterthought for me. She wanted my opinion on which bills she should pay off with his life insurance, then a few days afterward, the water heater went out in the house and we were reminded he wasn’t here to fix things any longer.
I went from being the teenager who was prepared to live out the rest of her life to my mom’s partner. Do you know what that did to me? It didn’t let me grieve his death, and it made me resent her.
The day I found out about the pregnancy is the day you went into the hospital and had your surgery. I was hit with this feeling of what would happen to me if this was us? What if something happened to you? Obviously you work in a much more dangerous job than my dad ever did. I knew there was the potential for you to be harmed, but we’d never had to face that head-on. I never had to put myself in the position of being the parent to a child that may one day resent me because I couldn’t handle losing their dad.
It was a slap in the face, Chance. It woke me up, as if I’d been sleeping before. I never wanted to put my child through what I went through, and that night was when I knew. I had to leave.
You kept accusing me of keeping secrets from you, and you were right. I was planning my escape.
I’m so sorry.
I never wanted to hurt you, but I made the decision, and now I’m having to deal with it, and I guess so are you.
Maybe one day I’ll get the guts to come home, introduce you to our son, and ask to be a part of your life again.
That day won’t be any time soon, but I hope it comes…
For you and for Gavin.
Please believe I’m doing this because I feel like I have to. I’m terrified of being the mother mine is, and I pray every night that you’ll forgive me.
Love you always,
Delia
CHAPTEREIGHT
Chance
I don’t realizethat tears are streaming down my face until they start smearing the page I’m staring at. Anger and sympathy in equal waves flow through my body. While I do understand her fears, I’m also fucking pissed that she didn’t discuss them with me.
I could’ve helped her get through it.
Together.
Like a fucking married couple should’ve.
At the same time, I don’t necessarily know what her mental health was like, and I’ve had my own struggles since she left. I’ve tried to become the type of person who’s understanding instead of the type of person who judges others.
It’s hard, and I’m not always perfect with my acceptance, but I do try.
“Chance,” the voice of a female breaks into my thoughts. Turning my head to the side, I see the nurse I was speaking with earlier. “Your wife is awake.”
Nerves shoot up from my stomach to my throat. This woman has been such an integral part of my life from the moment I met her. Dare I say my life has ultimately revolved around her? Especially for the last two years.
I shoot to my feet, following quickly behind the nurse. Truthfully I want to knock her over and bust in there, question Delia on what the fuck she was thinking. However, I’m aware of what can happen with brain injuries, and I have to be patient and willing to let her come to me first.
We enter the room and Delia’s sitting up, the doctor standing next to her, shining a light in her eyes.
