Smoke And Steel

• Thirty Four - Truly, Madly, Deeply •

May 3rd, 2005

My dear Avery,

If you are reading this then I have left you in the worst way a mother can leave their child -- by choice. I am truly sorry to have left you like this, and I have never felt more guilt in my 27 years than I do right now. I can only hope that you, my sweet little sunshine, will grow up to be a stronger, better, wiser person than I ever was.

I love you with all my heart and if you grow up hating my memory for what I am about to do then I will understand. Never doubt that I loved you, because I do and will even after I'm gone.

I am as sad as I am selfish, and that is why I cannot stay. Because I know, I do know that what I'm about to do is selfish, and I know you won't understand any time soon, but I need to do this. I can't live like this any more. 

I'm writing this ahead of time, both because today is one of my better days, and because I have finally made my mind up. Whether you read this letter a day after I'm gone, or a week after, or even ten years later, I  want you to know about me and the type of person I was. I doubt that your eight year old brain will remember me very clearly once you're older - if you want to remember me, that is.

I was 17 when I met your father, a devilishly handsome and already successful 23 year old. Right away I was charmed by him, like a moth called to flame. He was oh so sweet, and before long I fell madly in love with him.

Within a year we were married, and on Valentines day you were born. I wanted to call you Valentino, because of both your birthday and because it is a strong name, but your dad said no. According to your dad, Avery was a much better name, it was his father's name, after all.

I was only nineteen when I had you, but I knew (well, at least I thought I did) that your father loved me and we'd be together forever. Believe it or not, but back then he treated me like a princess and made me think the world was a magical place.

The day you were born was the happiest day of my life - even marrying your father did not rival it. You looked (and still do) like an angel sent from the heavens to guide us. At that point I wanted to call you Gabriel, but your dad still said no. So Avery was your name.

I once looked up what Avery means and found out that it means 'elf ruler', or something like that. In my opinion I'd rather be valiant and strong, or an Archangel, instead of leader of the elves.

I know that I never told you a lot of things, but this is me telling you them now. 

You look just like me, although I'll always say that you're the most beautiful boy on Earth, and you have your father's eyes (it seems that that is one of the only things you didn't inherit from me). You have my cheeky humor and your father's wit. I raised you on bands such as AC/DC, Pink Floyd, and Led Zeppelin, whilst your dad tried to get you to listen to Bach and Mozart. I think it'll be interesting to see who's music influence trumped the others (please let it be mine, I always was a sore loser).

Right now, you don't care about whether you're dressed in a little leather jacket (you love playing with your grandpa's old one), or a suit, or that cute little lion costume that I got you in Thailand, but you do enjoy wearing clothes, so I don't think you'll grow up to be an exhibitionist or anything like that. You love pasta and especially love helping me to make it. Your favorite movie is The Lion King and you have watched it so many times that (I'm not joking) the pair of us just sit there watching it, and quote every single line.

You have a really good memory for an eight year old, which I don't think you got from me. You remember every single thing that happens, but I hope that once you're older you'll be able to forget all the wrong that your father has done. Once I'm gone he is all you'll have, so I do hope he treats you right. His quarrel was always with me, and believe it or not he does love you.