The Filthy Few (Iron Disciples MC) (5 page)

For my fourteenth birthday I received an unexpected gift
that came in the form of a letter; from my mom.

Dad was still alive then and it was a school day; Friday. We
had plans too. He was to pick me up from school and we would go to my favorite
restaurant where at some point he would give me my present; it was tradition.
Then on Saturday I would have three friends over for the day and we would go to
Six Flags and hang out parent free for the whole day there. I already had a
cell phone and as long as I answered when he called and checked in when I was
supposed to, I could have my time with my friends without him hanging around to
spoil the fun.

When 3:30 came and went that Friday afternoon I wasn’t real
worried. He had to commute from San Francisco and sometimes traffic was
impossible. When it got close to 4:30 I began calling. I knew something was
wrong and it wasn’t traffic; I could feel it in my gut.

When the school vice principal come out to the curb and
invited me into his office I was already prepared for the worst. Dad had been
in a car accident or something and I was going to get a ride to the hospital.
What a way to spend my fourteenth birthday. I was
not
prepared for what
Mr. Peters told me that afternoon.

“Your father is dead.” He said without preamble.

It didn’t register right away. It was just too unthinkable
that by the time I became a teenager I would lose
both
my parents;
impossible.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “He’s just late. Probably got
caught in traffic coming from the city.”

“I’m sorry Morgan, but there was an accident and he was
killed instantly. He didn’t suffer and there was nothing anyone could have done
for him. He’s gone.”

That’s when I attacked Mr. Peters. I’ve never thought I was
a violent person but something just snapped and I tried to shoot the messenger
so to speak. Fortunately no one blamed me for my reaction even though he walked
away that day with fingernail marks going down one of his cheeks. After the
anger subsided the grief set in and completely took over my life for what seemed
like forever. They say kids are remarkably resilient but not me. I didn’t
bounce back from that day; ever. I think I am still grieving and still angry
even after 14 years has passed. My aunt and uncle came and got me that day and
took me home to their house. At first I thought it was going to be a temporary
situation but I soon realized it was permanent. No way would the state let a
grieving teenager live by herself. Relief came from a completely unexpected
source two the day after my father’s funeral. We were at home about to clean up
after dinner when my aunt suddenly asked an odd question.

“So what did you think of your birthday present?”

“What?” I asked, totally confused. “I never got a present.
Dad always gives it to me at our favorite restaurant but we never got to eat
obviously.”

“I wasn’t actually talking about that. What did-?”

She stops mid-sentence. “You never got the letter.” She
surmises.

Now it was my turn to be confused. “What letter? From who?”

“We have to go to your house.” Proclaims my aunt.

“I’m tired. Can’t we go after school tomorrow?”

“No, we can’t. This is very important so get your shoes on
and let’s go.”

So I found my shoes and followed her out the door, wondering
what was so damn important that we had to go right away. When we got to the
house she insisted I stay in the car while she and Frank (my uncle) looked for
it. That, I thought was very odd. But maybe they thought it would be too hard
seeing everything again so I stayed put. It took about a half hour for them to
find this mysterious letter and they looked very relieved when they got back in
the car. They didn’t say much on the way back to their house. When we went
inside my aunt handed me an envelope addressed to me and from, amazingly, my
mom, who happened to be my aunt’s older sister.

“Take this upstairs to your room so you can read it in
private. Later if you need to talk about it just knock on our door.”

“But how?” I was dazed and very confused.

When my sister found she did not have as much time as she
thought, she wrote letters to you and your brother to be given out at different
times of your lives. She gave them to me for safekeeping and I swore an oath
that I would make sure you received them all, and on the appropriate times.
This one is for your 14
^th
birthday.”

“Does Jaime know?”

“No, and please don’t tell him. On September the 12
^th
he’ll receive his first letter for his birthday. I want it to be a surprise for
him as well.”

My curiosity satisfied, I went upstairs and carefully opened
my mom’s letter. The second my eyes read the first words I could feel the tears
begin, but then all of a sudden they get all chocked up in my throat and
nothing springs forth. It’s not that I didn’t feel anything; I did, I do. But
it all stays buried deep, far from the light of day. Sometimes it is physically
painful. I feel the sorrow so intensely and the tears begin to well, then
suddenly it’s like turning off a hose or something; nothing comes out. It’s
crazy. Sometimes it almost feels like I’m holding my breath or something and I
have this desire to take a deep breath; to have an intense cry, but it doesn’t
happen. It would feel so damn good to cry. So I sat there on the edge of my
bed, all choked up, and began to read.

My dear sweet daughter:

Happy fourteenth birthday honey. I know this is precious
little, but since I cannot be here physically, know that I am here with you in
spirit on this special day.

There is so much I want to tell you and I will do my best
to say the things to you that I would wish to say and to teach you those things
I wish to teach, through these letters.

You’re becoming a young woman Morgan and soon you’ll
start looking at boys in a different way if you haven’t already been doing so.
Don’t just give yourself up to just any boy. I respect you Morgan, and you respect
yourself, so make the boys respect you as well. Make your future first love
treat you well and if he doesn’t respect his mother he won’t think much of you
either. Don’t get pregnant! There, I’ve said it so I won’t harp on it. Let me
just say this. Children change your life. Having children is the best thing in
the world as well as the most terrifying, and most agonizing thing in the
world. Don’t take any chances until you are ready for those changes. Enough
said.

I love you dearly my darling daughter. Whatever happens
in your life, no matter what, know that I will always love you. There is
nothing you can ever do that would have made me stop loving you even had I been
still alive and now that I am gone, you still can’t make me NOT love you. You
are my reason for living; you and Jaime. He is young, innocent, and less
prepared for the world. Promise me you’ll look after him. You will always be a
success no matter what you do in life you won’t have the struggles Jaime will
have and he will need you; especially now that I am gone.

Do your best in school. Most of us spend the better part
of our lives at work so find something you love and do well at it so you won’t
be miserable working. Go to college that is the key to your financial success.
Go to college and you’ll be able to do things you want to do most in life.

I remember the day you were born like it was yesterday.
You were so tiny and fragile I thought how can this little person grow up to be
a strong young woman one day? At that time, when you were six pounds three
ounces, it seemed impossible. Yet here you are on your 14
^th
birthday; not so fragile anymore are you?

If I had but one birthday wish for you Morgan it would be
happiness. To me it doesn’t matter what you do so long as you are happy. Be
happy my beloved daughter and one day we’ll meet again.

Love Mom.

I’ve received many such letters over the years and I
treasure each and every one of them. I keep them in my safe deposit box at the
bank. I feel like as long as I have those letters my mother is somehow still
alive. There is one letter I have not received and I’m sure I have one. The
letter I’ll most certainly get if I get married. In a way I am glad she won’t
ever know that I didn’t get married. I don’t do relationships and I am
certainly not marriage material. In that I have failed my mother who I am sure
wanted to see me married off. No one in their right mind would want to saddle
themselves with an emotionless cyborg. That’s me the partial human woman who
can’t cry. I’m like the tin man in the Wizard of Oz who when he cries he rusts
and cannot move. Maybe that’s what will happen to me if
I
cry.

Each and every birthday I got a letter from mom and it took
the sting out of her death; well some of the sting at least. Each time she had
something different to say to me. Sometimes it was motherly wisdom and
sometimes it was just her thoughts and feelings. She shares those things with
me so that I get to know her better. It’s important for her that I see who she
really is as more than my mom, but as a person too.

Then my love of my life Joshua Harris left me for Mindy
Casey when I was in the tenth grade. I don’t know how my aunt even knew
anything about it. I thought I had been pretty secretive, but nevertheless, on
my bed waiting for me to come home from school was the letter about love and
mending a broken heart.

My dearest daughter,

I think we both knew this day would come. Maybe you
recall me telling you about your first love back when you just turned fourteen.
They say you never forget your first love and no doubt you’ll always remember
yours. I know right now you’d rather forget he even exists but as you get older
and more distance from this day you’ll look back on what you shared and how
uniquely wonderful it felt to be in love for the first time. It’s okay to be
angry, bitter, and hurting so long as those things do not define who you are as
a person for the rest of your life. Allow yourself the time to grieve. I don’t
know why your heart has been broken; I only know that it has finally happened. You
are turning into an amazing woman Morgan and not everyone will appreciate the
person you have become and certainly not the one who broke your heart. You will
heal, you’ll learn from this, and you’ll move on, stronger for what happened.

Don’t rush into the next relationship no matter how
tempting it may be. Give yourself time to sort through your feelings. Use this
to learn about the person you now are and will become. Through this experience
you will have a better idea of what you feel is important in a partner. You’ll
get an idea of what you like and dislike and you will be better prepared for
the next time someone has your heart.

A boy named Chris was my first love and the one who broke
my heart when I was sixteen.  I cried for weeks. I truly believed he was the
one for me. I loved him and then I hated him. I both loved and hated myself for
what I surely must have been lacking otherwise he would not have left me for
another girl. I believed I would never get over him. Of course you know how
this story ends. I had to wait six years before I was to fall in love again and
this time it was with your father. I am so very glad I waited so long. When I
met him I had a better idea of who I was and who I wanted in a partner. In the
time between Chris and meeting your father I dated and I learned about myself
and about men. And because of what I leaned I was better able to handle a real
relationship. You know the story about when we met so I won’t belabor you with
the tale again. I am just glad I was mature enough to know how to be a good
girlfriend and one day a good wife as I am sure you will be one day too.

Let yourself be sad and let yourself be angry and
confused, then learn from the experience and when
you
are ready, move
one with your life. Just remember, your smart, beautiful, and have a good soul.
Anyone who leaves you has made a terrible mistake. Someday Morgan you will find
the one who appreciates who you are and will let you grow and will grow with
you. I have no doubt that you will love again one day.

With all my love for your grieving heart,

Your Mom.

It wasn’t until I was a lot older that I began to understand
how difficult it must have been for my mother to write all these letters. I can
tell how much love and other feelings she puts into each and every letter. It
must have torn her up inside knowing that she cannot be here with me on these
milestones. If I do not know anything else in life, there is one thing I know
of a certainty; and that’s how much my mother loved me.