The You I've Never Known(98)
It might be hard to believe, but I still dream about you. My favorite is the Christmas dream. We’re decorating the tree and I’m singing that silly song I made up: Eggnog and beer make for too much good cheer, but you can bet the sleigh knows the way, so Santa please don’t sweat it. Dumb, I know, but you’re only three, frozen there in time, and you laugh and laugh, even if you only understand the gist of my words. That makes me laugh, too, and I am filled with happiness. It’s a joyous Christmas.
But then the dream ends when your father walks in, pissed off, and slams the door behind him. I hate when dreams get real.
September 11, 2008
Ten years old today. I can hardly believe it’s been an entire decade since that incredible day you came into the world. I run a finger along the C-section scar faded into a silver thread below my belly button, remember the first time I held you, all plump and pink and perfect. You looked up at me, and in your eyes was recognition. You knew me! Our connection, independent of a physical cord, was complete in that moment. We’re still connected, Casey, wherever you are. Jason can’t take that away from us. Ever.
So what’s up with me? Well, your mom’s an official college graduate. Finishing school definitely freed up my schedule. Now Tati and I actually have a little of this thing called “spare time,” and we’re using it to mountain bike. I love going outside the city and cruising back roads and trails. It’s a different adventure every time we go.
Speaking of going, Tatiana and I are moving to California! She got a job. I got a job. Both of us were lucky enough to find work in the same city: San Diego. I hear it’s beautiful, and am looking forward to leaving the desert in favor of the ocean. Not only that, but the TV station I’m going to work for is going to let me do sports! Chargers and Padres, woot-woot!
Oh, some bad news. I’ve tried to keep in touch with your father’s family, just in case. I’m not sure if you’re acquainted with your Uncle Drew, but he was a policeman. I say “was” because one of the bad guys killed him. I’m sorry about that. I liked Drew, even though I only met him in person once. When I’d call, asking about you, he could never offer any updates. But he was always kind, unlike your grandparents. Do you know them? I suspect you do, though they’ve never admitted it. Keeping us apart is more than callous. It’s unforgiveable.
September 11, 2009
Happiest birthday, my sweet Casey. Will you have a party and a cake with eleven candles? What kind of presents will you get? Maybe an iPod? Do you love music? I think you’re into hip-hop, don’t ask me why. Jay Z, perhaps, or Rihanna? When I was your age, I was all into country, but I left that behind in Texas. Are you in Texas? I hope not. I want more than that for you.
Tati and I have been in San Diego for ten months. Have you ever been here? It’s amazing! Perfect weather. Pacific Ocean. Big city, but not so big that you can’t live comfortably in the suburbs. And the people! Oh, Californians, at least most of them, embrace the motto “Live and let live.”
I mean, of all the states, with the possible exception of New York, California must be the most progressive. It doesn’t matter what color your skin is or who you’re in love with. As long as you embrace “Live and let live,” you can find happiness here. It’s refreshing, especially after the other places I’ve lived.
Of course, it’s not totally peace and love, or there wouldn’t be such a big need for victims’ advocates like Tati. Lots of crime in Southern California, though we haven’t seen a whole lot of it in our decent neighborhood. Working in the newsroom, I hear about it, though. I’m still a sports reporter, and loving my job.
I hope wherever you are (even if it is Texas) you’re happy there, too.
September 11, 2010
Oh, Casey! You’re twelve. I was thinking that if I saw you on the street I probably wouldn’t recognize you, and that made me so, so sad. But also mad! This giant bolt of anger, electric and white-hot, surged inside me. I wish I would’ve been angrier nine years ago. Wish I would’ve screamed from rooftops, knocked down doors, begged for TV airtime to take our story public. Instead, I passively waited for something to happen—for Jason to make a mistake, or for the cops to find him, or even for fate to bring you home to me.
That was my upbringing, Casey. That was my marriage. That was having self-respect beaten out of me. Learning the hard way not to question authority. I’m sorry I wasn’t tougher. I’m a different person today, and if—when—we’re together again, I’ll never let you down.
What are you like today? Do you still have coppery hair, or has it gone blond from the sun? Or maybe it’s even turned darker. Are you gold? Ginger? Auburn?
Are you athletic? Do you play soccer or softball or basketball? I wish I could take you to games with me. One of the best things about my job is watching from the sidelines. Best seats in the house, even if I’m mostly standing. I hope you like sports. I hope you’re a strong girl. I hope you’re happy. I hope you wonder about me.
September 11, 2011
Casey, my Casey. You’re officially a teenager today. Do you feel different having been awarded that designation? I remember when I was twelve I thought being a teen would magically change everything for the better. It didn’t, by the way.