Stranger

Dear _____,

           

            Yes, I did mean to leave a space there. I am already eighteen years old and I have no idea, not one clue as to what to call you. I don’t know your name, obviously. But, I don’t even have a nickname for you. One thing someone might call you is “grandpa.” But, I don’t think you deserve that name. I was thinking something more along the lines of chicken, abandoner, or even stranger. Okay, a like that one. Dear Stranger, I do not know you, nor do you know me. I wonder if you even know if I exist. You left when my dad was just a boy. He was so young, barely learning how to ride a bike, how to throw a baseball. You left him alone, waiting for someone else to help him learn. Luckily, he has a mom and an older brother that love him very much. They love him enough to try and take your place in teaching him, helping him grow, even loving him, because for some reason you didn’t feel capable enough to do so. Why did you leave anyway? Why did you decide to divorce my grandma and make her raise three boys on her own? When I was younger and more naïve, I used to be sad for my dad and for grandma. I used to ask my dad, “Why would he just leave you? Did he not think you were pretty enough?” I never noticed the gloss in my dad’s eyes when he would smile at me and say, “I guess he couldn’t see the beauty of having a child. He didn’t know that I would grow up and have a beautiful baby just like he did.” So now that I am older, I see the things I did not see then. I am not sad for my grandma. It makes me really happy actually to see how happy she is and how much better off she is without the “stranger.” I see how strong she is. Growing up I’ve seen how strong our family has been. And even though we are not the traditional Brady Bunch, I see the beauty in us. I hope you see it too, all of the things you lost.

Love,

 Your Granddaughter

Or, stranger.