Jake
I watch through the living room window as Amber carefully opens her letter. Every emotion crosses her face: pain, happiness, sorrow, love. Tears slip down her pretty pink cheeks as she reads through Jana’s last words to her.
This seems silly, but the fact she wrote one for me almost took me out at the knees.
Jana raised that beautiful woman out there.
She took her in with open arms and did everything her mother should have.
It’s a hollow feeling knowing I’ll never be able to thank her for that.
And now this? She wrote a letter for me . With shaky hands, I open the letter.
To the love of her life,
First, I would like to say I’m sorry I’m not here to meet you.
Then I want to say thank you. Thank you for taking the time to love my girl.
I know she has walls up, and not just any walls.
Her walls are forged over years of trauma, hurt, and feelings of being unworthy and incapable of love.
Breaking them down would have taken time, attention, and care that I’m sure was sometimes forced onto her.
The fact you stuck through and did it, means you see her heart under it all, and seeing that heart still beating so strong after everything is truly a gift.
Thank you for seeing the light hidden within.
Her quiet and sometimes snarky exterior was like a comfort blanket for her for so long.
I worked tirelessly to get her to show her amazing light to the world, but she was so selective with it.
Standing in Amber’s light is the closest you will ever get to standing in the midst of a wildfire.
It burns hot, all-consuming, all powerful.
When she loves someone and shines that light on them, she does it with her whole being. Relish in that warmth.
Helping raise Amber is the greatest thing I have ever done with my life. I hope loving her is the greatest thing you do with yours. I’m passing on the role of protector, supporter, confidant, and friend. She’s your girl now.
Some helpful hints for loving your girl.
When she’s overwhelmed, let her fight it out.
I was too quiet for her to get her anger out with, so she utilized the gym.
Something tells me you can take her fire though, so let her yell.
Let her go for a run, let her scream into the void, just let her get it out.
It’s when she goes quiet that her mom’s voice breaks through.
When she’s sad, bring her brownies. They’re her favorite treat and are best eaten on a porch. She pretends she isn’t big on physical affection, but wrap her in a hug, and her whole body relaxes. So hold your girl every chance you get. Show her the affection she never received as a child.
She’s a workaholic. Let her be one. It’s her safety. Growing up with nothing, she works twice as hard to make sure she never returns there. Force her to rest when necessary, but don’t take away her ability to support herself. Help her find ways to do it while finding balance.
Support her in her habits. Allow her to keep your things tidy, it helps bring her peace. Her hands run down her thighs when she’s anxious. Try holding her hand when she does it. Find a way to give back to the community and those who need it. Doing that always brings her joy.
Don’t feel the need to buy her things, she doesn’t want or need material items. Just love her, and love her hard. I promise she will love you back with everything she has.
Have the best life with our girl.
Jan a
Folding the letter, I let my body sink into the couch to process everything she said.
Caring for and protecting Amber’s heart has been my priority, but with the knowledge that Jana passed that responsibility onto me knowing what a treasure it was, heals deeply scarred parts of my soul.
Amber is the greatest treasure I will ever hold in my hands, and I’m so grateful Jana felt the same.
That she helped to raise and shape the beautiful woman I get to call mine.
The fading light of the afternoon sun is highlighting the halo of hair around Amber’s beautiful face, the tears on her cheeks catching the light, giving her an ethereal glow. She looks like an angel, and I know she’s feeling the warmth of her own personal angel in this moment.
Dragging my hands down my face, I wipe the heavy emotions from my eyes and watch as she processes Jana’s last words to her. When her shoulders finally relax and a small smile stretches on those pouty pink lips, I get up and join her on the swing outside.
Without a word, we cling to each other while watching the last of the fading light. We don’t need to talk to know we are equally grateful and heartbroken. It feels like acceptance, and the start of the rest of our lives.