The Things You Would Have Said
Month
Dear Dalton,
It’s been months since we have seen each other or spoken after the incident. This letter is my way of telling you I am not handling the separation of Rodan and Gator well. Without you, my Saturday nights of wandering the cold, abandoned streets of Portland aren’t the same. You were my partner in crime and the brother this only child never had. My days are now spent lonely and bored out of my mind. I no longer get the same excitement in my life that I used to thrive on. The memory of that night remains trapped, never leaving the dark, twisted caverns of my mind. I felt shame from the peers of our group; they wouldn’t accept me back or have anything to do with me. I became nothing.
School has started and it is the main focus of my life. I am doing well and seem to be on the path to graduating. I do miss our long summer adventures in Portland, but experiencing an arrest is the wake up call I needed to mature closer towards adulthood. I am less than a year away from turning eighteen and becoming a legal adult. That lifestyle I once lived no longer suits me. I am growing up and having many plans in the future that I need to fulfill. College, at the top of my list, would be put on the line if I were to get caught again. That isn’t a risk I want to take, so this is fair well and good living. I hope you stay safe and out of trouble. Later dude.
From,
Rodan, age 17
Dearest Spencer,
First of all, I just want to say that I love you SO much. You are such a spectacular dog. I’ve never really taken the time to say those words or to really show you how special you are. There are many moments where you have brought me joy and happiness, and there are moments where I’ve wanted to tell you things, but I thought I was crazy to talk to dogs. But I know I’m not. You’re my best friend, and best friends tell each other things, right?
Remember the time we went to the Hillsboro dog park? You and I were just strolling along, when all of a sudden a dog came up to me and started growling. I was very scared that it would bite me, but then you started barking back very loudly. The dog scurried away, tail between its legs. I was amazed! That dog is such a scaredy-cat! (or dog!)
I am extremely proud of you for protecting me. I wish that I would’ve taken a moment to say thank you when that happened. I should have given you your favorite meaty treat. I really regret that I didn’t.
These are just some of the many reasons why I love you. I hope you will remember this forever and ever in your heart. I love you.
Your BFFL,
Karen, age 10
To my Brother in Arms,
If you were here, I could properly thank you. Thank you for my life, the life of my son and the lives of the others that you have saved, with that selfless sacrifice by shielding all of us from an explosion that could have taken us all. To live in the hearts of others is not to die. You are alive in all of our hearts. Thank you.
Kent, age 52
Dear Other Man,
I am aching today. I am aching because I know I am not living the life I should/could be living. I am aching because I feel so overwhelmed by the things around me, so out of control of my life.
I am aching because while I’m in the shower with my tears, my husband is lying on the bed, content, reading the paper in his simple little life, oblivious to the turmoil going on in my head.
I am aching because I want to know you better. I am aching because I want to know: where you would live if you could live anywhere in the world? What you like to do on a quiet Sunday afternoon when you have no obligations? What it is like to watch you teach in your classroom? I am aching because I want to be closer to you and I can’t.
I am aching because I know I can’t be closer to you, and I wonder if this should continue as it is becoming more and more difficult for me to clearly think of my life, without the influences of my feelings for you, real or not. If we can’t be together, what are we doing?
I am aching today because I care for you a great deal, but also realize that I’m not sure who I’m caring for. Without the ‘total’ involvement, we can’t really know the other person. We are just skimming the surface and not deeply connecting. That is one thing that we cannot do, for now.
It is hard being good.
Aileen, age 57
Dear Dad,
I love you and I want you to be safe so I just wanted to tell you to stop smoking and drinking. By smoking so much, your lungs are being filled with tar and is killing you slowly but surely. By drinking, you do stupid stuff. Also, having parties all the time and staying up late is really bad for your health. Also, after mom left you started having different girlfriends and that is really messed up. You need to pick one and stay with her. Another thing you need to do is get a job. It will help you a lot because instead of drinking, smoking and having parties all the time, you will be at work. Please Dad, you need to listen to me.
Love,
Alexia, age 12
Dear birth mom,
Today I am 21. Twenty-one years ago you gave birth to me. For reasons that are unknown to me, you made the decision to put me up for adoption. I’ve always had questions I wanted to ask you; not a lot of questions, but important ones.
How did you choose my name? My adopted parents named me Daniel Michael Pierce. Michael is my godfather’s name. I got my Korean name tattooed on my arm when I turned 18.
Why did you put me up for adoption? I like to think it was for my best interest, but sometimes I wonder if that isn’t the case. Do you ever think about me? Do you sometimes wonder how I’ve turned out? Do I have any other siblings? Who is my father? Were you in love?
Dear Julie,
Thank you for being a great teacher in first grade. I liked science the best. You’re like the brightest star in space.
Sincerely,
Jace, age 9
Dear Elizabeth,
I’m the one who secretly sent you that box of chocolates on your birthday. My intentions were honest. I’m sorry I didn’t get to be the love of your life. All the best for you, your new boyfriend and the baby.
Maik
Dear Father,
I’m here in Portland and I miss you. Writing this letter is difficult because I would rather see you, but it is hard to travel back to Mexico, without a passport or visa. Even though I can’t talk to you, I think about you every day. I am currently learning English, working toward the promise I made to you when I left Mexico.
I want to tell you that I respect you and our culture, but for many years, I have kept from you a very important piece of my life. I want to confess that I am homosexual and have HIV. I feel it is important to share this with you so you can understand one of the reasons I moved to America. It has been difficult to achieve the American dream, like finding a job and making money. I want to apologize for being unable to provide financial help to you over the last ten years. It was painful to find out Manuel sold your house and I was not able to buy a new house for you.
I forgive you for your past mistakes and hope you can forgive me for mine. Thank you to God, my mother, and my father for giving me life. Without these people, I wouldn’t have been able to live here on Earth.
Love,
Felix, age 44
To YOU,
It’s crazy.
Hands down, the three years I have been with you have been the most interesting, exciting, depressing, heartbreaking, exhilarating, years of my life! I feel like meeting you has been the biggest blessing, and at the same time, WHAT A MESS!
It can’t be healthy that half the time I’m with you I think to myself “How did I get myself into this situation?” You have hurt me in ways that I will probably never fully recover from. Could I ever get over infidelity, harsh words, or the feeling of loneliness? You have done things to me that are beyond my comprehension. When I say to you that I have been nothing but 100% faithful and put every last drop of energy I have into this relationship, it’s the truth. When I tell you that I will never do anything to hurt you or I love you more than life itself, I mean it. When you tell me that there’s no one else and you “promise” you’re not talking to that girl anymore, that you haven’t cheated, that you only want me for the rest of your life, it’s a lie. I can’t forget the nights you left and didn’t answer your phone, the way you would leave the room to make a call, the text messages, the phone calls, the emails; IT’S TO MUCH! You insisted that I was crazy to think anything was going on, when all the evidence was laid right out on the table.
Dear Grandpa Don,
I wish I could have met you before you died but I need you to know that we all miss you. I would have loved to be with you, but I know that I was born too late and that you died a year before I was born. I can’t wait to join you and the rest of the dead relatives. I will see you in about 60 to 80 years. I’m ten now so I’ve got a while.
Sincerely,
Cassidy, age 10
Dear Dad,
My professor said… or I read in the paper yesterday… or… nothing. I wanted to start with some advice, good letters start with advice. I’ve been listening around for some; no one understands but us. No one understands but you, but me.
Dear Dad,
I’m having those cat dreams again. Mom steals my cat and puts it into a transformation bucket. It turns into a lamb or a tea bag or a sprout. It still meows and follows me around, even as a sprout.
Dear Dad,
The thing is, I remember us as a loud family. Music, laughter, engines, cranky old engines. But really we were quiet. No one was saying anything all that time. It was a matter of love without speech or feel, deaf claustrophobic love, brute stubborn love. Thank you for that love.
Dear Dad,
I keep starting, you’ll have noticed, but it never comes to a middle or an end. Those are the parts I’m afraid of.
Dear M,
I am sorry I was so young. I think back everyday and wished that I were older. Maybe if I had been older, you would have felt comfortable enough to confide in me. I am sorry you were sick, and sorry that you were in so much pain. I wished in the last years of your life that our families were closer. It pains me that there had existed such a divide among our families.
I do remember you, though. I remember your spontaneity and your carefree personality. You were intelligent, fun, and such a delight to anyone who had the pleasure of being among your company. Did you not feel these things?
When you took your life, our family quickly deteriorated. I remember gazing up at my mom in sheer disbelief. Was it true? I remember your funeral and being behind that god-awful curtain, separated from everyone. Tears poured out my eyes when I saw Grandma cry for the first time; she was weeping for her little brother. We all were crying. To this day I cannot listen to Sarah McLachlan’s “Angel”.
Mum,
This may be a shock to you. My girlfriend turns 50 this year. I know she is just a few years younger than you but I love her so much. I know that you think she is 35. We didn’t dare tell you the truth from the beginning due to your heart condition. So, we want you to come to the big birthday party that we’re throwing this August. You don’t have to bring a present, just be there and be happy with us.
I love you very much and I hope you are not mad at me for not telling you the truth from the start.
Angelo
Dear Jack,
I was looking through my schedule here in Eugene and noticed that I have a ticket to the final concert of the Eugene Symphony next week. That reminded me again of the old days when we were involved in attending an entire season of concerts by the San Francisco Symphony. Of course, the first item in each season was a gathering to decide on the concerts we were going to attend. We knew that Saturday night was the appropriate time for all four of us to get together and head to the City for a concert. However, we had received tickets for some concerts we would prefer to avoid – too much from those modern composers we hated. It was always a great meeting at my place to discuss alternatives – which tickets we were going to return and what tickets to get when we returned them. Once we had agreed on these decisions, the two of us always had a great day in San Francisco – over to the box office to exchange tickets and a lunch at a nearby restaurant while we were over there.
Dear Bill,
I’m sorry I didn’t massage your feet and hands. I think I would have liked that if I was dying.
Love,
Dim Sum, age 61
Dear Shelly Dog,
I’m sorry I didn’t always treat you nicely. You were my first pet, and I loved you so much. Maybe I didn’t always show my love in the right way.
There are a few things I remember doing. The thing that probably hurt you the most was when I rode you like a horsey. Also, I shouldn’t have pulled on your long, fuzzy tail. It must not have been fun when I teased you with your treats and bones. Now that I am older, I feel bad I did all of those things to you.
It could have been the reason you died faster when you had cancer. When I rode you I could have hurt you. I’m sorry, Shelly.
Sincerely,
Brandon, age 10
Dear Susan,
I know it’s been forty-five years. You’ve probably been hoping I was dead, or worse, much of that time. Who could blame you? I just want to apologize—I’ve always wanted to apologize—for the way I mishandled things back then. I caused you grievous emotional pain and suffering, and I’ve never been able to forget it.
I want you to know that we almost certainly would not have had a successful long-term marriage anyway. I was too absorbed in the beauty and allure of women and had to have as many as I could, something I did not know about myself when we married. Twenty-one is very young to marry, though it was not unusual in 1961. You were escaping your dreadful father, and I was off to graduate school with a pretty young wife in tow, working to support me. I did not realize that I could actually have other women besides you, and when I discovered it, I could not turn it down. I betrayed you and refused to talk about it and left you in the lurch. I think it was unforgivable and don’t expect your forgiveness. I don’t know what I expect.
After several girlfriends, I went on to have a total of four marriages and one common-law, though the last one has lasted twenty-three years so far. I just had to grow up, I guess. That is no excuse. But I think you may be glad to know that you were well rid of me at twenty-five, knowing what was to come. Again, I am very sorry I hurt you and I am full of remorse over not having handled the situation with more care for your feelings. I hope that your life after me was reasonably happy with children and a loving husband; so much more than you got from me.
Sincerely,
Ralph, age 69
To my loving husband,
I love you but there are some small things I have never told you:
I do like to be left alone when I’m in the bathroom.
Vacuum-cleaning IS so boring and I’d prefer that you’d do it.
One day I’m cutting my hair short, no matter what you say.
Love you anyway.
KK