Letter Essay
Dear Amanda,
I used to think that I would never make the same mistakes Dad made. I thought that because of all the things I had read about parenting and all the years I spent babysitting that I would automatically be a better parent, if not the best parent, in the world. That day in late September, I realized I was way, way, wrong.
It was at Keepataw days. We were all there; Dad, Ryanne and Patrick who were two and five at the time. You were 13 and Kurty was 10, Marty was off somewhere else. Although there was the obligatory stale beer smell, mixed with funnel cakes, teenagers shrieking on rides and an old band rocking Mellencamp tunes to a half drunk audience…there was that unsteady feeling in us. It followed us everywhere since that May, when your mom passed away. Because of her death, the mourning process meant our moods were a free for all. We could laugh or cry on the spot and the rest of us would fall into understanding.
Dad had walked off to get a beer. The rest of us were taking it all in when you asked if I’d go on the giant drop ride-thing. That is something I cannot do. I hate dropping, falling. You love it though. You always have. It was something you and your mom loved that I couldn’t muster the courage to do. Your asking turned into the innocent pleas of a 13 year old pretty quickly. I thought of every excuse I could, about having to stay with Patrick and not wanting to use a ride ticket but you were persistent. You did one of those hand clasps –begs and tilted your head, “C’mon.” you said. “We’ll remember it forever”.
My gut twisted. In the months since she passed I never could figure out the right thing to say or do to comfort you, so you would know I’d never let you feel alone or without some motherly influence or assurance. At that moment you presented an opportunity. It was something I could do, but, I hesitated and you saw it.
Just then Dad appeared with a beer in one hand and could feel the faltering energy. “What’s up?” he said sipping his beer. “I’m going to go on the giant drop-thing with Amanda.” I said quietly as I handed him Patrick.
“But you hate that,” He said. I shrugged as you cracked a smile.
“No, no,” he said. He leaned Patrick over so I would take him. He grabbed your hand.
“Dad!”, you shrieked. “No way!!!” He would never go on such rides in the past.
The only reason you were begging me was because you'd given up on him years ago. You jumped for joy as you walked hand in hand to stand in line. I felt my heart beat begin to return to its normal rhythm. I was off the hook. I thought I would jump for joy like you but I couldn’t. I was met with two very raw realities. One, I wasn’t able to stomach a silly fear to be alongside you. And two, all the years I’d judged Dad’s parenting skills when all along I was ignorant to believe I could be a better parent that he is.
That day, I learned it was nothing I did, but more of what I didn’t do, that will always stay with me. Dad, in a moment, without hesitation was able to take the reins for the sake of both his daughters. Since then, I watch him more. I know that just by sitting back, I can learn and will continue to learn.
I love you. Let’s drink coffee soon and hike,
Big sis,
-C
