Letter

Hi Mum

I wish I could talk to you again, ask your advice again. Instead, I’m writing, like I used to do when I was at University and I spilled my heart and my hopes out to you knowing that you’d reply with your advice, your approval, your validation. I hope this letter is a little less angsty than those, but I don’t know – maybe I’ve not changed that much over the years?

First, and most important, of all. we’re all ok, in fact I think we’re thriving.  We have a beautiful life full of love, laughter and happiness. You don’t need to worry about us.

You’ll be pleased to know that I finally cut contact completely with E just over a year ago. Obviously, I hadn’t spoken to or texted him for years at that point, but I decided to also block his email address and phone number (I’d already blocked him on every possible social media outlet). I just didn’t want to hear, or see, anything about him ever again.

The peace I felt knowing he couldn’t contact me directly was incredible. The only contact I had by that point was by email – asking him to pay the child maintenance that he owed – but, brief as these were, even these cost me something personal – they handed some control to him over how I was feeling and I just wasn’t prepared to do that anymore.

I passed the job of collecting child maintenance to the Child Maintenance Service. I’m sure you can imagine how that’s going (I would explain in more detail, but this is a letter not a novel). Predictably, the maintenance payments he’s making are still less than they should be (despite having £1,000s of arrears knocked off his account when they backdated his payment calculation by three years because he has another child, he’s now in arrears again), but at least I’m dealing with the CMS and not him which takes all of the emotion and hurt out of it.

You’ll be furious to know that E hasn’t seen any of the kids for over three (closer to four for most of them) years now. I’m so used to this that it doesn’t really affect me, but if I tell people that he’s cut contact with his own children, their reactions make me realise how shocking it actually is. I guess so many things that E did and said were shocking, that not seeing his kids for all this time seems almost benign in the scheme of things. I’d give anything to hear you tell me how cross you are with him though. Oldest Son has never forgotten your magnificent tirade when E first left – and that was before any of the financial and other nastiness started – I can only imagine what you’d have to say now.

Oldest Daughter is up in St Andrews doing a PhD in Ancient Philosophy (don’t ask me for more detail than that – there’s lots of Aristotle and Plato that’s all I know…). She’s poor as a small church mouse (no PhD funding, so she’s using student loans and working three jobs to pay her rent, fund her studies and eat). I send her what I can out of what E pays the CMS for Youngest Son, but she still struggles.  However, she’s loving what she’s doing. She hasn’t chosen the easiest path (she could very easily get a well-paid job and not have any of the financial headaches she has now), but she’s chosen the one that’s right for her. My heart almost burst with love and pride when I saw the academic conference she organised and another conference that she spoke at this year.  It’s amazing to see her taking the opportunity to excel at something she loves. She’s worked so hard to get where she is and she’s remains unflinching in her decency and integrity. I wish you could see her.

Youngest Daughter is also forging her path in her usual, beautifully unique, way. She now has two children – my grandson is three and my granddaughter is nearly ten months old. She’s matured so much over the last few years. The fieriest and most emotional of my children, she was the angriest of all of them with E. She tried to reconcile with him when she was first pregnant, and she still keeps in touch occasionally by text (she’s the only one that does), but he’s let her down again and again. He’s never met her children – I have no frame of reference for this, I literally cannot comprehend the concept of you and dad not knowing my children – so I can’t quite grasp how she must feel. She’s matured so much though, her fury and her rage have been replaced by a quiet, stoical acceptance of the facts about her dad. She told me the other day though that she’s going to officially remove her dad’s surname from her name as soon as she can. She doesn’t feel like his name is part of who she is anymore.

She’s amazing mother though Mum – she’s calm, kind, compassionate and funny and, as a result, her children are amazing. You’d love your Great Grandson – like his mum he’s funny, mischievous and very, very kind. He has a mad mop of curly hair, and Youngest Daughter’s intensely dark brown eyes. When he says ‘Grandma’ it makes my heart sing, it also makes me look over my shoulder for you, Grandma was your job, it’s strange that it’s mine now. I do follow in your footsteps though, and we bake cakes together and he ‘helps’ me cook. He loves sleeping over at Grandma’s (and, like you, when he does I spoil him with treats – it’s compulsory when you’re a Grandma I think?) I even have a little Grandma Toybox for when he comes over just like you did for my kids.  

Your Great Granddaughter looks so like Oldest Daughter that she makes me catch my breath sometimes.  She also has a certain expression that reminds us all of you – the look you used to give when you were calling out someone’s bullshit – it makes me laugh every time she does it. It also makes me feel like you’re close by somehow. She’s very calm and chilled out and she has an immensely promising sense of adventure.  She reminds me a bit of Oldest Son (remember the day he climbed out of the cat flap, or the day he climbed up the chimney?), she definitely has that energy about her. She’s very steady on her feet and is quietly determined. I have a feeling that nothing will stop her if she makes up her mind to do something.

You’d be so proud of Oldest Son. After a really tough time, he retook his final sixth form year (which was a really difficult thing to do), and he did himself proud. He got an outstanding set of A Level results and is now in his second year at Newcastle University studying Maths. I think he’s still really interested in pursuing architecture as a career (remember all those incredible things he used to build with Jenga bricks and Lego?), so watch this space (and perhaps use your heavenly influence to send us a lottery win). I think he’s still the most affected by what his dad did. Probably because he had the most faith in his dad, meaning that when everything happened, he was the most disillusioned. I still fret a little about him though. He’s ok, but I’ll always worry that he could slip back into the state he was when he didn’t want to be here anymore and planned how not to be. That’s not something I think I’ll ever be able to get over.  I know that you’d tell me to have faith in him, to trust him to tell me if there’s a problem and that’s what I’m trying to do.  He seems to have settled well at Uni, he has lots of friends and gets drunk a lot (he reminds me of ‘drunk me’ when he’s drunk which may or may not be a good thing, it’s definitely a funny thing), which is exactly what he should be doing. He’s grown into a gorgeous young man, and like the others is decent, principled and honest – I can’t wait to see what he’ll do with his life.

And now for Youngest Son… He’s 17 – can you believe that, 17? He’s 6’2” and he’s still growing. He towers over all of us. He’s still always hungry. He still makes me laugh every day. He’s honest and kind but he still has a fairly relaxed attitude to rules (he follows them, but I suspect only because he agrees that they’re a good idea – for now), but he’s charming and funny and fiercely intelligent and that combination means he gets away pretty much anything. He’s got a part time job and is saving some money (I think he probably has the best bank balance of all of us) and he’s studying for his A levels. He’s applying for university now – he wants to do History and possibly Philosophy (which delights Oldest Daughter, who loves the idea of him following in her footsteps). He’s the only one at home with me now, and we rub along really well – he’s the ideal housemate: quiet, funny, kind, considerate, only appears when he needs feeding – it will be really odd when he goes to university next year.

In a funny way he occasionally reminds me of E, he’s got E’s brain for remembering impressive lists of facts and flags, which makes him amazing at TV quiz shows. He also has a fantasy football team (do you remember how obsessed E was with that?) which is apparently doing quite well (although he admits this is more to do with good luck than any skill or judgment). On the surface he’s the one who has always seemed least affected by what his dad did, he sort of accepts it with a resigned shrug. However, he quietly stopped using his dad’s surname a long time ago, and when he changed phones a couple of years ago, he, equally quietly, didn’t give his dad his new number. I think his dad is on his mind though – he bought tickets for a football match the other day (for the team he and his dad support) and wondered if his dad would be there too. I asked how he’d feel if he saw him and he said he didn’t think he would recognise him now – it’s probably true, the last time he saw his dad he looked like a boy and was probably a foot shorter. He’s a young man now. Whilst the others were all a bit younger when they when last saw their dad, they haven’t changed much facially or physically since.  Youngest Son. On the other hand, has matured so much that he would be unrecognisable – at least at first glance.

As for me? I’m fine. I really am. I think you always knew I would be (I wish I’d had the faith in myself that you always had in me). I’m now doing a job in education that I love, and I’m thinking of retraining for a whole new career in teaching – which at nearly 54 is really quite daunting, but I think you’d be cheering me on telling me that I can do it.

I think would be so proud of us all Mum. I’m kind of proud of where we are and how we got here. I just wish I could share it with you.

I miss you.

I love you.

J