My Little Dashie

My Little Dashie (Final)

I continued to flip through them, looking at my own past. There was a gap after my parents died, but to keep my mother's dream going I had picked it back up. Making false pictures of happy times and enjoying my life to stick into her book of memories. Then, I opened up to a piece of paper. I picked it up, and immediately recognized the hand writing. Or more correct, mouth writing. I speculated this was what she had written down before she left.
Dad,
For fifteen years you took care of me. For fifteen years you loved me, played with me, and made sure I enjoyed my life in a world not meant to house me. I'm not a mare of many words, but even though I told you this in person, I felt you needed a written version of it so you will know it was all real.
I love you daddy. You helped shape me into the mare I am now. I'm not sure what is going to happen, if I will remember any of this or not, but I want you to know that you did a darn good job of raising me, even if I was a bit stubborn at times and short with you during others.
With Celestia's permission, I hope to allow you to keep our photos; our memories, with you so that you will never forget. Again, I love you, and thank you.
Your little daughter always,
Your little Dashie forever,
Rainbow Dash.
I set the note back into the page, flattening it with my hand as I felt the dried tear marks littering the paper. I read the note over and over and over again, until I had it memorized. Then, I turn the page, and was greeted with Dashie's filly smile.
So now I sit here, looking through my photo album of our time together. Her first bath, her first words, her first drawing, even her first preened feather, all in this book of memories. Everything else in the house is gone, but what I had put into this book still remains. I don't dare ever change that either, but I will continue to add to it. To show that those years with her helped not only shape herself, but helped shape me as well.
I am a new man from what I was fifteen years ago. Changed, given another chance by a sheer miracle of fortunate events that transpired from somewhere I can't even speculate. If I had never gone back and checked that box... if I had done something different than I had... could have changed everything between us. I guess I'm lucky that it all worked out. I can gladly say I have achieved my parent's only wish; for me to be happy. Though I am saddened, I am still happy for the time I had with her.
I now sit alone in this empty house, staring at my mother's rainbow picture with a smile plastered on my face; every time I see it, I think of Dashie. I should be crying, I should feel horrible and want nothing but my daughter back. And yet, I feel relieved to know that everything is alright. She didn't run away, or leave on bad terms; she is gone, home, to where she belongs, and is safe.
I look back down to my photo album, turning to the page after our most recent photo. The pages are blank. I still have a lot of life ahead of me, and I plan to make the best of it.
For myself.
For my little Dashie.

The End.