Epilogue
A YEAR AND HALF LATER
Davis
Dove and Duke ran ahead of me as I slowly made my way up the ladder, scaling the tree house that once belonged to my brother and I.
Rae didn’t even know I had bought this property, not for any reason except that I wanted it to be mine and couldn’t stomach anyone else ever touching these memories of mine that would now be like relics.
Tim had carved his name into the wood of the tree, and there were still secret stashes of treasure we’d buried out in the woods.
This place would stay with me until I was ash and dust, and then if my kids wanted it, they could have it.
The letter had arrived exactly one week after my wedding, and it made me think that maybe he hadn’t written it, until I read what was inside and it was confirmed when another letter had arrived after my son was born.
So, when I started to feel his absence in a way that was unbearable, I’d come out here and I’d read the very first one again.
And I’d find a way to feel him while sitting in our tree house.
Hey Idiot,
Mom discouraged me from starting the letter that way, but this isn’t for her. I know it’s been a while…which isn’t entirely your fault, in fact, I know it’s largely on me. We were cowards, and not a single person ever once put blame where it belonged for that accident.
I was the one who chose to drive. I was the one who didn’t know how to because I was too fucking scared to try.
It was me. Not you.
I allowed them to blame you, I know that was fucked up, but deep down I envied you. I look up to you, bro. Living the life I always thought would fulfill me…you should know I never wanted it though. Not once.
I wasn’t meant for this world…I can’t explain it, but I know it. Which is why this stupid shit with my lungs doesn’t scare me. Death has slowly been coming for me my whole life, it feels like an old friend is waiting to greet me.
I’m not afraid of death, but I am afraid of my loved ones not living simply from a place of misplaced grief.
So, I plan to write you five letters in total, one for each big stage of your life, in hopes that you have them.
If you don’t then sucks for you, you won’t get my letters.
I made mom swear to this with a notary and everything.
I have backups in place too, so get married, have kids, grow your business into something truly magnificent and live.
Please, I ask…just live. I love you.
I have always loved you…you never did anything wrong, Thomas. Not once. I was just fucked in the head, and it took me a long time to understand that it didn’t make you a bad person for not being fucked like me.
So, in death, I hope to bring you life.
Love you big bro,
Tim