A Letter to Tommy

August 17, 2006



Dear Tommy,


It has been such a long time since I have written to you and chances are this will be the last time. Today is your thirtieth birthday. I wonder if you will blow out 30 lit candles and eat cake with your loved ones? I remember your twentieth birthday when we lived in the little house around the corner from your mom. We couldn’t afford much back then but I wanted to show you how much you meant to me. Remember I made you a carrot cake from scratch? You’re favorite. We didn’t own a grater so I spent all day chopping the carrots into little bitsy pieces with a dull knife. My fingers ached with pain from the pressure of the knife but I didn’t mind much. I couldn’t wait to see your reaction.

We couldn’t afford gifts but I cleaned the house from top to bottom and cooked the best meal I could despite my inexperience in the kitchen. I was nineteen then. I don’t remember what the meal was but I do remember it didn’t turn out the way I planned, was a bit tasteless. I remember your reaction wasn’t quite what I had hoped for either. You had worked a long day running parts. You were tired. You didn’t seem to appreciate the cake much even though as I recall it was the only part of the meal that was edible.

I remember your twenty first birthday too. We spent the evening with your friend from work and his wife. She seemed to be much more domestic then me. I remember that you often compared me to her. I could tell you secretly hoped I was more like her. Remember the cupcake they gave you with the one burning candle? She cooked your meal this year but I was ok with it. I wanted friends too.

That night you bought your first beer and were legally able to give one to me because of the marriage ties. Remember us joking about you being my guardian?

That same year, you told me how you undressed your friend’s wife with your eyes. You asked me to be friends with her and told me you wished I were more like her. I knew that all along… it was no surprise to hear it. I left you for the first time that year, but I came back not long after. I wasn’t the same when I returned. I was stronger and cared about making myself happy, not only you. Isn’t it funny that your friends wife eventually left him for a woman but only after taking all his money and possessions. I wonder if you still wish I had been more like her?

I recall your twenty-second birthday. We lived in our first nice three-bedroom home. We called it the “Cabin”. We were so proud of it and our friends envied our accomplishments. I worked full time and was going to school part time. You worked at Coors Machine Shop and had made many friends there. We invited them all over for drinking and a BBQ. Again, I spent the day preparing our home for the party and baked you a cake and dinner. This time I did a good job; had learned some things through the years.

You had a single friend from work that didn’t want to drink and drive, so you told him it was ok that he stay the night. I didn’t mind, we had two extra bedrooms. The night went fairly well except that you drank so much and so quickly that you were passed out by 10 PM, leaving me alone to host the crowd of people that occupied our home, many of them I had never met before. You never did eat or blow out your candles but I took care of you and made sure you were ok.

The next morning I felt it only right to make you aware that your single friend from work made passes on me. You laughed and said he was just drunk. You said you didn’t want to say anything to him because it might make him uncomfortable or hurt his feelings and you knew he didn’t mean any harm.

He continued to come over on the weekends during that year and you continued to pass out leaving he and I alone with alcohol. He noticed things about me that you never did. He appreciated things that you never did. I fought it for a long time but I didn’t win- fighting it alone. In my guilt, I confessed to you. Turns out that our marriage is who was left uncomfortable and hurt.


How could I forget your twenty-fourth birthday? You were driving home to pick me up for lunch. We were dining out this year in celebration. A teen-age driver pulled out in front of you leaving you with no time to stop. Seems as if that marked the wreck of our marriage as well. You called me and I rushed to where you were. You were ok but shaken up a bit. After some thought, you decided you did need to go to the hospital and you began talking about back-pain.

You didn’t work for the rest of our marriage. We spent countless days at the doctor’s office and hospital. They never could find anything wrong but I assured you it was your back and you knew if it was hurting or not. I believed you. We fell into quite a bit of debt after that. I continued to work and you and I did odd jobs to try to make some cash.

I remember you said you may never be able to work ever again. You told me to prepare for you may be on disability for the rest of your life. I figured you were just down.

I desired to know God for the first time in my life at this point. I begged you to take me to church and to pray and learn his word with me. I wrote you many letters expressing my love and concern about our marriage. You said you weren’t ready for God. I didn’t know what to do… my faith was not strong at that time. I eventually stopped trying and lost myself in confusion. Funny how after I left - you was back to work within weeks. I wander if you ever got ready for God?

But Hey ~ I remember your eighteenth birthday? Your friend from Louisiana came to visit. We showed him what it was like in the wide-open lands of Texas. We had a good time then didn’t we? Your nineteenth birthday, we lived in East Texas and spent the entire night fishing…. That was neat! Except I didn’t like that you butchered the fish in our bathtub… But hey, it was some good eatin! Now, those were good times…


Dearest Tommy, I intended for this letter to be of sweet sentiment. It seems I had forgotten many of the things that recalling your birthdays remembered. Isn’t it funny how we remember what we want too? All these years, I have remembered the pain I caused you… and forgotten my own. All this time, I have blamed myself … Am I being unfair to myself? Am I being unfair to you? Does it really even matter? My faith tells me you are it for me… I pray for God's Will. I don't know what he has planned for our lives.. but I do know forgiveness is a part of his plan.

So, for your thirtieth birthday I am giving us both a gift… forgiveness.

Happy Birthday



Sincerely,
The wife of your youth