Dear Mom,

I thought a letter like this would start with fuck you. But I can’t be angry anymore. I spent twenty long years being angry and when I sealed my letter and sent it off to the judge, it wasn’t because I didn’t know if I could take the podium and look you in the eye in court. It was because I have always known how to write what I cannot say. And that letter didn’t start with fuck you, either. It told a story of a girl who wasn’t safe, a girl who has grown to seek her own safety whether or not it is given. I thought you owed me a childhood and happiness, but now I realize that only I owe myself happiness. I have sealed that letter and I have sealed away our relationship, but also I have forgiven. I pity you, Mom.

The last time we ever spoke, I asked you why, after kicking me out at fourteen for no particular reason, you didn’t contact me for four months. “I was your daughter,” I cried, and again you made excuses for the love you wouldn’t give. My happiest memory of childhood was one of the many times I ran away, huddled in the back seat of the car with my sister at night, wasting gas to stay warm. That was family to me. But now I have many happy memories. I have the love of my life and a safe home and an education and most of all, I have a future. I don’t know if I’ll ever speak to you again; I doubt it. But I am happy, Mom. And I hope to God you find some happiness in your world, I really do.

Sincerely,
C, age 22

Dear Uncle Donal,

I have tried to write this letter and say these things for years now, but I don’t have the words. It’s kind of ironic since I’m the writer in the family, isn’t it? I just want you to know I’m so sorry for that night. I don’t want to sound like I’m making excuses, but I don’t know how else to say it. I was only six years old. I didn’t know what cancer was, and certainly didn’t know you were going to be taken from us. I don’t remember much about that night except that you wanted to hold me, and I denied you. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I don’t think I felt well and I just wanted daddy to take me home and let me go to sleep.

I can barely remember you’re face. Only your form, and smell. You told daddy you didn’t think I loved you the next day. That isn’t true. I do love you. I always did, and I always will. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. I never meant to. I feel so horrible that you thought that. I wish I could have told you it wasn’t true when you were still alive. I regret that day every day of my life. When I was in J.V track I used to say, “I’m going to win this race for Uncle Donal, then everything will be okay.” But it never was. The guilt has never gone away. 

I’m nineteen years old now, and I wish you were here. Daddy still keeps the horses out on your farm. I’m an English major, and in a sorority. Nanny’s doing well, and still visits yours and Papa’s grave often. A big part of her is still missing, and Mother’s Day is still not a good day around the house. I guess it’s still too painful for us. We love you and miss you so much. I know that you are watching over us, but I feel like this gets to you easier. I know you were never much of a reader so I will stop now. I love you, and please keep watching over us. 

Love, 
Your niece, Age 19

Dear Erin,

I want to talk to you so very much. I want to tell you about my husband-to-be. I want to tell you about my new career. I want to talk to you about our new niece or nephew. I want to talk to you about our childhood memories. I hope that when I write you this letter you can read it wherever you are, even if you cannot talk back.

I miss you so very much. I missed you when I graduated high school. I missed you when I graduated college. I missed you when our best friend had her first child. I missed you when I tried on my wedding dress. I hope that if I carry you in my heart, it keeps you from missing me, too. 

I love you so very much. I should have said that every day. I should have said it when we fought. I should have said it when you got sick. I should have said it the last time I saw you walk out our front door. I should have said it every day before you died. I hope you can forgive me for not having said it every chance I got.

I want to talk to you. I miss you. I love you.

Laura, age 25

Dear Austin,

Not too long ago, you told me you were going to graduate early. I was surprised because I hadn’t even thought about saying goodbye to you after high school, and all of a sudden the idea was there. I started thinking about all the things I wanted to tell you but I knew you probably wouldn’t take seriously. I figured I’d write you a letter and give it to you at the end of the year, but part of me knew I wouldn’t ever give it to you.

Thank you for all of the help with schoolwork. Thanks for all the laughs. Thanks for helping me through my move here. Thanks for every thing else you’ve done for me.

I know we were really close at one point, before stuff happened.  I loved the way we were able to tell each other things and help each other through stuff that got really tough.  You were so accepting of me and I hope I was just as accepting of you. You really became one of my best friends. Things changed between us, but I hope you still remember all of that. I hope this year, before you leave, we can rebuild that friendship.

And finally, there’s some things I’ve always wanted you to know and I hope you realize. You are an amazing person. You are smart. You are funny. You are a wonderful person to be around. You are loved. I hope you know that. Life can be rough and I hope something comes along to help you see that it’s also incredible and worth it. It may be selfish of me, but I’d like to hope that the friendship we had won’t just disappear from your memory. I’d like to hope you’ll look back occasionally and smile. I know I will. 

I’m going to miss you. As much as I may not show it, I will. You impacted me and my life so much. You gave me someone to talk to. I can’t tell you how thankful I am that I met you. I won’t ever forget you.

Love,

Jessica, age 17

P.S.  "Life ain’t always beautiful, sometimes it’s just plain hard. Life can knock you down it can break your heart. Life ain’t always beautiful. You think you’re on your way but it’s just a dead end road at the end of the day. But the struggles make you stronger and the changes make you wise and happiness has it’s own way of taking it’s sweet time. No life ain’t always beautiful, tears will fall sometimes. Life ain’t always beautiful but it’s a beautiful ride" - Gary Allen

Dear Don,

I have come across a website which encourages people to write what they would have said or should have said. With this letter I am trying to do that with you in mind.

I met you when I was 15 and you were 20 or so. When I was a teenager I knew I had sexual lust for other guys, and you were the most attractive guy in our little town.  I could never tell you that at the time, but I definitely wanted to be with you. We worked for the same place for years and became buddies. You listened to me and my troubles with my stepfather and my family situation. You were a friend to me. All those years I had a yearning for more with you in a physical sense, and maybe you picked up on that but you never expressed it. I thought I was the only person with my same sex feelings in that rural community. I felt isolated, afraid, and confused about my emotions.  When I was around you I felt secure, and was attracted to your physical strength and confidence. People whispered behind your back and questioned why I was your friend. There was a lot of what I now know as homophobia in that town.

When I was 18 you let me live with you after a big fight with my stepfather.  That was the beginning of my leaving home and growing up to be out on my own. You helped me get to college and kept me going in a good direction at that time.  Our friendship did eventually progress to a sexual one and a loving one.  I think it was a big moment for both of us, being so bold to go over a certain social boundary after years of wanting to touch you. Do you remember how we lived in such fear of anyone finding out about us? Do you remember how we both knew what we had had been so right and so joyful? We were together like that for about two years. During my years at the university I encountered the gay liberation movement in 1969. My visits home to you on school breaks were so loving and sweet and our hearts were so yearning for each other. My memories of that period are all good.

What I want to say is that I know you loved me, and that I broke your heart when I said that I wanted to see other guys while I was away at college.  I had come out there and had found other gay people, and out of selfishness I wanted to be sexual with other people. I remember the last time we saw each other, after my telling you about my desire to explore. There were tears shed and lots of questioning about why this was happening. And then you drove off in your GTO. I was 22 and you were 27 by then. In the years since, I kept track of you from a distance through family and was told the people in our town gave you a hard time as “the town queer”  and you moved away to Florida and then developed MS. I have often thought I should contact you but couldn’t bring myself to do it. I am going to be 60 this year so I guess that would make you 65 if you are alive, which I doubt. I still search for your name in the internet white pages and get addresses of people with your name in the area of Florida that I heard you moved to in the 1970’s. But I just can’t go to the next step to find out if it is you or not.

As I reflect on my life I realize how self-centered and selfish I became and I was always looking for love in all the wrong places in all the wrong ways.  I became a raging addict running on self-will, although I have been clean and sober 23 years now.  I never found love again. What I want to say is I didn’t know that what I had with you was what I was always looking for in life. The memories of my first love, you, warm my heart today as an old man. I have come to view being homosexual as being cursed.  My life would have been so different if being gay weren’t a factor in my existence on this planet. But when I think of you and the love we felt, which I disrespected, I feel the heartache I caused you. So, Peanut, I want you to know that I truly appreciate the respect, love and care you gave to me as a young man, and how our sexual relationship gave me such satisfaction and led to my eventual growth as a gay man.  You were loved then and all my thoughts of you today are loving thoughts. I am sorry for breaking your heart.  I didn’t know until these later years of my life that I had what I wanted in you and didn’t know it at the time.  I never found anyone better than you.

Love,

Tom, age 60

Dear M,

This letter has been written and unwritten for five years now. I’ll continue to write it, in hopes that it will be answered.

The day I drove away will stick in my head forever. When I saw you last, I didn’t know it would be the final time. I resented you, overcome with hurt about a decision that we both made; the baby that would never be. I should have hugged you and wished you well, but instead I was hurt and watched as you removed your belongings, one by one.

As days glimpsed to years, I assessed that hurt. I needed to find you to apologize, to get over it, to rekindle the friendship that had sustained me for years. None of the social networks could locate you. You didn’t want to be found.

There are so many ghosts in this town that take on the shape of you. I’ve tapped on countless shoulders, thinking it must be you, written to old email addresses that bounce back, and tried in earnest to have my apology be heard.

It is this same feeling, day in, day out, that I carry with me. It weighs me down.

I’m sorry for that fateful day where I could have said, ‘See you later’, but instead I barely spoke. I should have told you that you were the most brilliant and inspiring human being that was in my life for six years. Thank you for affecting my world in such a way that even now, after not having seen you in five years, I write this letter.

I still carry that hope, as ridiculous as it may seem, that we could be friends one day. As life waxes and wanes, I still carry this hope. It’s too painful to swallow the idea that goodbye is definite.

Sincerely,

Jess, age 33

Father,

I suppose it’s just that I finally listen to the therapist and write you a letter.
I remember when I first started going to therapy.
It was all because of you.
I remember when you called me a little girl for going, and mom fighting with you about it.
Making me feel bad about my weight, and saying all the sickness was in my head.

You don’t seem to really understand what you’ve done to me, do you?
I can’t talk to you like a son.
I can only talk to you like we’re friends.
Don’t you understand?
I have friends.
Where is my father?

Now I’m 19.
You’ve tried to change, from the hateful, door smashing, beer drinking jerk that you are.
Yet you still insist on calling me a spoiled brat, 
even though I work five days a week and go to college for 15hrs a week.

Thanks so much for being there,

Tyler, age 19

Father,

I suppose it’s just that I finally listen to the therapist and write you a letter.
I remember when I first started going to therapy.
It was all because of you.
I remember when you called me a little girl for going, and mom fighting with you about it.
Making me feel bad about my weight, and saying all the sickness was in my head.

You don’t seem to really understand what you’ve done to me, do you?
I can’t talk to you like a son.
I can only talk to you like we’re friends.
Don’t you understand?
I have friends.
Where is my father?

Now I’m 19.
You’ve tried to change, from the hateful, door smashing, beer drinking jerk that you are.
Yet you still insist on calling me a spoiled brat, 
even though I work five days a week and go to college for 15hrs a week.

Thanks so much for being there,

Tyler, age 19

Take a moment today and write a letter to someone that passed during the September 11th attacks. Or write a letter to someone that risked their lives for ours. Let us never forget what they all did for us!

I hope everyone is enjoying the long weekend with lots of family and friends! Instead of posting a letter today, I wanted to write a short message to encourage everyone to write a letter of their own, in honor of Memorial Day.  Whether you personally know someone who has risked their life for ours, you’ve heard about a heroic act somewhere around the world, or there is someone in your life that has simply done a great deal for you, this is a perfect opportunity to tell them how you feel.  Take some time today or this week and write a letter to those who have made an impact on your life, acknowledging them and all of their greatness.  Happy Memorial Day and check back in this week for some amazing letters!