by Lisa Heaton
Miss Allen is old. The last time I saw her she looked a hundred. Is she still in charge of events? See, even at ninety-seven, I will have purpose. And really, you gag at the thought of apples, apples, apples? Sorry, but I find it rather funny.
Before I loved you, I liked you. There will always be a place in my life for you. While I can’t imagine what that will look like in the time to come, you will always be my friend. Our history is too long to undo. These letters have reminded me of why I like you. So thank you for being my friend, too. And you shouldn’t take me for granted because I did your poster board which we all know led to your lucrative career.
I should go now. Maybe I should start typing these letters. I may be getting carpal tunnel. Have a good week.
Love,
Rob
15
Another day later, the day Mike mailed a very difficult letter to Robin, he received a package and could hardly imagine what was in it. Tearing into the brown paper, he found a box filled with chocolate chip cookies, his absolute favorite. She used to send them to him when he was in Afghanistan, and by the time they arrived, the chocolate had melted and reformed many times. Then, it was like having a little piece of home to hang onto. In a way, standing there looking at those cookies, he felt the same way, as if he had a small part of his old life there in his hand.
Why had she done such a thing for him? Was she missing him at all the way he was missing her? He knew better, but still his mind pondered the question. What he knew was, if he hadn’t loved her before, he would love her now. With every letter, he fell in love with her all over again. How could he not?
Having sent Mike a care package of cookies, she had begun to question the decision. Was she somehow setting up expectations for more than was available to them? The gesture was similar to when she was waiting for him during his deployments, too similar. Her fear was that she was unknowingly giving him hope that was unrealistic. As often as she began to doubt her actions, she would then remember the joy she felt while baking them for him. It took her back to a time when she had nothing but hope for her future. There was something in the act of baking that made her feel hopeful or maybe whole, she was unsure which exactly.
The day his letter arrived, she knew it was too soon to contain anything about the cookies. She would have to wait to see what he thought of them. Hopefully, they would be better shipped to North Carolina than overseas. Emma was out with Stan for the evening, and Robin had held on to his letter so she could read it privately. The more they wrote, the more intimate the letters felt. Anyone else who might read them would never depict them as intimate, but they were becoming so much more personal, she wanted to cherish them without someone looking on.
It was already December, and they had been writing since mid-September. Receiving letters weekly, with the exception of the weeks when her letter was lost, she felt almost constantly in contact with him, and in some ways better in touch with his life. She welcomed each letter and found that she had so much to say in return; it was as if no time had passed.
Going up early to her bedroom, she got into bed and opened the envelope.
Dear Robin,
This is not a reply to the letter I have just received. I will reply to that next. This is something different, something I have felt led to say for a few weeks now. I refuse to run from it anymore, as I feel I owe you some explanation for my actions, as weak as it may seem.
A few months before coming home from my second tour, a friend of mine was killed. He was the one guy I trusted most. Just that morning, we were laughing and cutting up, and by lunch, he was lying dead beside me. It could have been me. Often, I wondered why it wasn’t. His name was Chuck, and he had a wife and four kids. It was the last half of his third tour. He was a dedicated husband and father; and somehow, I just couldn’t move past what happened. Why him? I had friends killed prior to that, but with Chuck, it was different. We kept each other accountable. We both had wives we loved, and we both knew how lonely it could get over there. I told you once, people were hooking up and neither one of us wanted to be part of that, so we kinda helped each other stay strong.
For the remainder of my time there, I spent every waking moment in fear of not coming home to you. Every mission I went on, everywhere I went, it was in the forefront of my mind. I became convinced that something would happen at the last minute and I’d be killed. I would lie in bed at night and wonder who would take care of you if I never came home.
Obviously, I came home, but I couldn’t get my mind straight once I was there. My brain never shut down, and I wasn’t sleeping most nights. No matter how hard I tried, I could never seem to get back to who I was before. Once you became pregnant and we moved back home, it gave me something to focus on besides the mess that was going on in my head. I did everything in my power to pretend I was okay, but I was far from okay.
Then Mikey died. You know, when he was a tiny little baby, probably just a week or two old, I sat with him one night rocking. Looking at him, I realized he would bind us together for life. I am not exactly sure why I felt as if I needed that so badly, but I did. Thinking of it now, I suppose it was due to the turmoil in my parents’ marriage.
Early on after he died, we really clung to each other, then that seemed to stop. I became more and more angry. Anger began to consume me. As I told you when you were here, I was angry at God, never at you. It has taken me years to figure this out, but you were the only God I had ever seen. So I lashed out at Him through you. And He knows this and is my witness; I am so sorry, both to you and to Him.
Once you went to work, I think that’s when I really lost it. I remember a moment when it occurred to me: Michael no longer bound us together; you were working, and it was only a matter of time before you left me, too. That was when I started pressuring you to have another baby. I have foggy recollections of how I forced myself on you on many occasions. Forgive me. Please forgive me for how I hurt you and how, instead of being your protector, I became the perpetrator. I wasn’t thinking clearly at all. I was unmistakably worse than when I returned home from war.
When I first started drinking, it seemed to take the edge off. What I didn’t anticipate, though, was how it would begin to overtake me. I became angrier when I drank, but was unbearably agitated when I didn’t. The more I tried to drown out what I was feeling, the more I felt as if I were drowning. I lost myself somewhere along the way. And then I lost you. Even before that final night, I knew I had lost you. I could see it in your eyes every time you looked at me. You were disgusted with me and disappointed in me. Even then, I could hardly blame you. That afternoon when I went to the pharmacy to get something for my shoulder, the pharmacist saw me there and gave me your prescription. I went crazy. I left my shift without even calling out and went straight to the bar, and well, you know the rest better than I do.
Dear God, I am so sorry.
Robin, that night was surreal. After all I had done to you, do you remember the things you said to me there on the kitchen floor? You told me Jesus would forgive me if I would ask Him. You held me when I was certain I was dying. I nearly killed you – and what you did was purely in self-defense whether you accept that or not – still, you led me to Jesus. I asked Him to come into my life while I was in the ambulance, and I have never been the same since.
Now, I realize a lot of guys have come home messed up, and I wouldn’t dare try to use that as an excuse; but I need you to know my mind was not right even before I got home. Brother Billy came to see me soon after I got to prison. After we talked, he arranged for someone nearer the prison to come out and talk to me once a week. It was a good start for me to begin to understand what was happening in my head. The greatest healing, though, came through God’s Word.
There is a verse in the Psalms that I now own and always will, it says, “He sent forth His word and healed them.” That is what happened. He healed me. I apologize for laying such a heavy load on you. It has never been my intention to justify my actions in any way. Instead, I kno
w I have been prompted by the Lord these months we have been writing. I tried to be as thoughtful as possible with how I have written this. The last thing I want is to drag your mind back to such dark days. I was the cause of them, and I know it. Forgive me, Rob.
Love,
Michael Sr.
By his signature, he was reminding himself and her that he would always be Michael’s father. Sometimes she had to remind herself she was still a mom. Even though she had no child to mother, that painful fact could in no way take her title away. Apparently, it was the same with him. He probably needed to see proof of Michael’s existence occasionally, and by his own name he could remember. Tears dripped onto the sheets of paper. Not one of them was dry.
“Lord, how could I not have known how sick he was? How did I miss it?” Did she miss it really? Thinking back to his homecoming, she did sense something amiss. Not that very first day or two, as a matter of fact, that first day was the sweetest day she had known with him up until that point. But after that, she knew something was the matter. Over the years, she considered what she could have done differently, how she might have helped him before things spiraled so far out of control. In the moment though, the pregnancy and the move overtook her, and quite simply, she never wanted to admit that her happily-ever-after life might be in jeopardy.
That night she did not sleep well, and when she did, she dreamed of him. The next morning, she remained in a fog for hours. Memories of his homecoming floated along with her throughout the hours of the day. It was her most vivid dream from the night before. They were in the large auditorium. Mike, along with all the others returning home, stood at strict attention. The ceremony was unnecessary as far as the Marines and their families were concerned. She remembered thinking, “Stop the music and just give me my husband already.” All the while, he was looking directly at her, and peeking from behind that serious expression of a dedicated marine, she could see a trace of a smile. He was just as anxious as she was.
When they were finally released, he ran to her and circled his arms around her, lifting her off the ground. As he did, she wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him, as he would later say, like a monkey. From that moment, he never put her back down. He even stooped over to grab his bags with her still clinging to him. They walked to the car in that manner, and along the way, someone said to him, “Now I get it.” He grinned and held her and juggled his bags all at the same time. Once behind the car, he dropped the bags and walked with her to the passenger side. When he opened the car door, he chuckled at the box of donuts waiting for him. She giggled and hugged his neck even tighter. “I don’t plan on getting out in the morning.”
And they didn’t. They spent the next few days snuggled up in each other’s arms and in what she thought was glorious happiness.
That afternoon, Robin went to Chris’ cabin and started a fire. Once settled in, she began to pen what she knew would be her most difficult letter to date.
Dearest Michael Sr.,
I am rocked to my soul by your letter. I knew something wasn’t right, and yet, I did nothing to help you. I wanted you to be okay, so I think maybe I buried my head in the sand. I had no idea you were going through such difficulty and turmoil. I thought it was what was to be expected from war. Mike, why didn’t you talk to me?
I have an admission of my own. After Michael died, even before my milk dried up, I went on birth control pills. I believed I would never love another baby the way I still love him. I was terrified of the thought of getting pregnant again. I didn’t want to forget him and move on. I only wanted him. When you began to talk about having another child, I was scared to tell you. You had become so explosive that I feared your reaction. So I hid it from you. I am tremendously sorry that I deceived you in that way. Thinking back to how you would get your hopes up each month, I so regret allowing you that false hope. It was wrong and cruel, no matter my motives.
And in case you haven’t finally realized, Michael will bind us together for life. You will always be the father of my son.
I understand your anger at God. I felt the same, only my anger was expressed by rejecting Him, by not allowing Him access to my heart anymore. Just as you were, I have been healed of that, and I love, love, love the verse you shared. I will own it as well. He did send forth His word and heal me, too.
I was never disgusted or disappointed with you. While I was disappointed at how our lives turned out, deep inside, I held on to my memories of the real you. When you weren’t drinking, I could still see you and I longed for things to be the way they were in the early days.
The things that happened that terrible night will always haunt us, I don’t doubt that. I think, though, what matters is what we do with the memories when they come. The whispers still come. Now, when they do, I call out for the Lord. He never leaves me defenseless.
This is indeed a heavy load, but shared, it is something we can both withstand. And now I ask you to never apologize again. When you do, after having received my forgiveness, you are saying you don’t trust my ability to forgive. I can forgive because I am forgiven.
With a heart full of love,
Michael’s Mom
P.S. Okay, I know how morbid this will sound even before I write it. Will you please take a photo of Michael’s grave and send it to me? Not being able to go there is the worst part of living so far away.
When Robin took her letter to the front desk, she found another from Mike waiting for her. She smiled and held it up to her nose. Why, she was not exactly sure. Did she expect perfume? She giggled at herself and caught Emma staring at her from the dining room door.
“Are you falling back in love with him?” The something new in Robin’s demeanor was inescapable. Emma had never seen her glow as much as she had over the past few weeks. Even on her wedding day, she was not so sure Robin was as full of love.
“I am realizing that I may have never fallen out.”
“What will you do about this?”
“I don’t know. Right now, I just want to love him this way. I can’t go back there. For him to come here would mean he would have to give up what he loves most.” No other law enforcement agency would dare hire him with such a conviction, she was all but certain. She would never ask him to give up what he had wanted since he was a little boy. Still, she knew she could never, ever return to that town.
Hey Rob –
Brother Billy retired two years ago, before I got back. Tim is a great guy and has really turned this place around. There is a new excitement that I can hardly believe. It is nothing like you remember. Obviously, he knew part of the story. Gossip line is still working well here and we still know each other’s business. But he welcomed me as if I were anyone else.
Now, he does like working out. Not so much at first, maybe because I pushed him so hard. He was such a girl then. It was worth it, and he admits it now. He feels better and has dropped some unneeded extra weight.
I know you never liked working out. I remember. Since when do you like outdoorsy stuff?
I have never tried a casserole, and I don’t plan to. I think I would lose my man card if I did that. I will stick with grilling meat and baking potatoes in the microwave. That is what real men do. With head hung low, I admit I am a store-bought-cookie guy. Then, once I am there I eat the homemade stuff. Kids eat my cookies, so it all works out.
Speaking of cookies – you are the greatest! I just got them this morning and have eaten half of them already. Not feeling sick at all, so no lectures. I do not know what possessed you to do such a thing, but whatever it was, keep it up. I never tire of chocolate chip, though I do remember you make a rockin’ oatmeal raisin, too. And really, I am merely doing my part. I know how you like to bake, and since you said you eat too many when you do, I am willing to take one for the team. I will eat them. (Sigh) Yes, I do know how selfless I am. Tell me more about the classes you are taking. Well, unless it is boring stuff like underwater basket weaving. If it is, just give me the highlights.
You
mentioned your dad, and I have to tell you, you couldn’t possibly know how much he meant to me, him and your mom. All those years, I always felt so welcome there. It was the closest to a normal family I ever knew. Exactly, you do have great parents. After all that happened, I won’t even allow myself to consider what they think of me. I hope someday, you will share with them how much they meant to me, and maybe even how much I have changed. Do they even know you are writing to me? They are coming for Christmas, right? I have thought about going to see my dad. I just haven’t worked up the nerve yet. Trevor has seen him and says he really is a different guy. Good thing for the McGarrett men, they don’t serve booze in the pokey.
Robin chuckled at his words. Some things about him never changed, and she was glad that his sense of humor was one of them. Always, from the very beginning, he made her laugh, and that was what she loved most about him. They always were laughing.
She continued on.
Proteins? You are talking like a gym rat. There is hope for you yet. Someday – to the beach here? That would be something. If you ever did, would you mind if I met you there? Maybe we could have dinner or something. And I am not talking about a date or anything, so don’t go getting your hopes up there, desperate girl. Just two friends eating dinner at the same place and time.
His words reminded her of Chris’. She wondered what he was really thinking when he asked that question. Was he feeling as desperately in love as she was? Was he trying to hide his true feelings, or could he possibly be content with having their friendship restored? Why had she made that statement at all? Would she really go?
My men’s study began last week. There were ten there that first night, and I was scared to death. We are reading through a book and discussing it. It went really well. Guess who was there? Jeff. Yes, the same Jeff I threatened to kill if you went out with him. Funny stuff, huh?
