I’m so sorry that you’re reading my words in this letter because it means that I’m not here anymore. It means that I never got to mend the mistakes I made with you or make right what I made wrong. I’m so sorry that I missed you growing up and that I wasn’t brave enough to face you after so many years of not feeling good enough to be your dad.
I would never ask for your forgiveness because I know that I don’t deserve it. I was stupid in a way that is hard to explain.
I lower the letter and close my eyes, hating the ache in my chest. All the regret that I’ve felt since Dad died swells inside me. And anger too.
He was too cowardly to deal with this while he was alive, and now I’m here, suffering alone. My fingers press into the paper so hard it crumples at the edges. Do I keep going, knowing it’s only going to hurt me more?
I have to. I have to put this to bed once and for all.
But I want you to know that I love you. You’re the best thing I ever did in my life. My only flesh and blood child that will carry my legacy.
By now, you will have met the boys I fostered to try and be a better person. Maybe you’ll have met them and found out just how amazing they all are. I can only take a little credit for helping them through their troubles. The rest is all them. They’ve promised me that they will take care of you if I’m not there to do it. I didn’t force them to make the vow. They made it of their own free will, and I know that they will honor it.
Trust them. They’re the best men you’ll meet, and I know they’ll be a force for good in your life. I hope they’ll do better than I did in supporting you. I hope you’ll let them.
Life is short, Maggie. We make mistakes, and we have to live with them. If I can give you one piece of advice, it will be to have the courage to face up to the good and bad in yourself. Only then will you find true peace. I wish that I had had the courage to do that.
I love you, Maggie. I always have, and I always will. I leave you a share of my home, hoping that you will always have a roof over your head and somewhere warm to sleep at night. It makes me happy to imagine all the people I love the most in the home I made and left behind.
Dad.
I drop the letter onto the comforter and stand, pressing my hands over my face. I don’t want to cry, but I do. He wanted me to love his foster sons and to live in his house. He wanted me to trust them to step in if he wasn’t there to take care of me.
And what have I done? Wrecked everything. Lost the trust of eleven men who offered me everything when really, I deserve nothing.
I’m not the kind of girl they should want. I’m not the kind of girl they need.
I’m tired, but it takes me ages to fall asleep. Memories of the comfort I felt in the arms of my foster brothers plague me. The passion in their eyes haunts me. The love in their touch makes me curl up into a ball and cry.
Everything I’ve done has been a mistake, but before I face up to anything, I must visit Dad’s grave. It’s the only way that I’m going to have a chance of finding the path to take.
27
Uncle Walter’s description helps me find Dad’s grave without much difficulty, but now I’m here, I feel no relief. I’ve bought a small bunch of flowers, not that I imagine Dad was ever a fan, but what else is there? Maybe I should have bought him a beer and poured it onto the ground. Maybe I could listen to a football game while I’m here. At least those things would be about who dad was, not about following the traditional routines of grief.
I place the stupid flowers down on the middle of the grave, noticing how neat everything is and smiling at the laminated picture of Dad with his foster sons that one of them must have brought up here and left.
Standing awkwardly for a while, I look around at the neighboring graves and watch as an elderly woman tends to one twenty yards away. She’s humming a gentle tune that carries on the breeze. There’s a comfortableness in her routines that I don’t feel. An acceptance too. Maybe there were no unsaid thing between her and her loved one. Maybe they had no grievances.