Dear Mom, Mum, Mother,Cynthia:
Today I write to you. But I am not writing to you because I want to, need to, or even because I miss you. I am writing to you in the same breath as how I am addressing you. You have distanced yourself so far from me that you have become nothing more than a first name.
I believe that your intentions to leave St. Helena were probably pure at heart and without disdain for your then current family. But, then, I have now lived the world and seen things, learned things and now understand things differently. When you left I was a mere baby. I was only just 18 months and starting to walk.
I watch now, as my grandchildren progress, how a child would be like at that age. I reflect back on how difficult it must have, or should I say should have been for you to leave. I could never personally do that, in fact if I did out of a necessity, I would find a way to come back for my child. Or at the very least, bring them to me.
While you were living your dream life, with your new husband and family, I was being raised by your mother. She was an amazing woman and I have many fond memories of her. These memories are so strong that not even you, or anyone connected to you, who wants to tarnish those memories will ever be allowed to.
The letter that was recently posted on Facebook, was one of, anger, or frustration. I was an abandoned teenager, alone without a proper Mother or Father to praise me and reprimand me. I am sure that I must have been as difficult as any child could be at that age. My grandmother, your mother, probably was crying out to you for help. She was trying to tell you that, it was your responsibility for you to raise your daughter, but you left her with the duty.
Not only did I suffer, but she suffered as well. She alone had to endure raising me. She did have help of my grandfather, but as you may recall he was an unsociable violent man. The abuse that I endured was something that also can never be removed. It is something that will stay with me forever. Some critics think that you can wipe away abuse and make it disappear as easy as a thought. But that is not so.
You mother, in your attempts to keep in contact with me, stopped. You have abandoned your daughter three major times. Once when you first left, second when you stopped writing and now when you are not interested in speaking with me.
We are only getting older and never younger. And there is one particular thing that money can’t buy, and that is time. All the money in the world, can never bring back the past, and it certainly can’t buy love.
As I sit here and contemplate the meaning of life, and where I have been and where I am headed on this great big journey, I know that until I met Robert, I had done it on my own. The things I supressed the memories I buried. I dealt with them. And I became stronger. I am not afraid to speak my mind about those thoughts and I will not stop. I will write my memories and tell my stories and stand up for what I believe.
You mother, however are not as successful as me. You mother have failed. You did not learn what love was, or what happiness is. Surely you didn’t or you never would have forgotten your daughter Dorothy that fateful day you sailed out into the great Atlantic Ocean and left St. Helena.
Yours Truly,
Dorothy
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