July 9, 2019

You’ve been dreading this day for awhile now, but I want you to know you should be proud of what you’ve accomplished in your 40 years on this earth. Both you and I know things haven’t been easy. Shit, things have been bad, but they’re getting better everyday and I’m a living testament that no matter how much darkness creeps up, there is light shining somewhere. I’ve sat down throughout the years as I am doing now and wrote you numerous letters. From birthday cards and Christmas cards to Mother’s Day cards, and on the polar opposite suicide letters that you will never see.

I hope this serves as a reminder of how much you mean to me, how much I care about you and how much I love you.

You, like most who will read this, know the beginnings. You were 14 years old when you had me. I don’t remember much from the start, I just knew things were different and would always be different. When I tell people how old I am and how old you are, they look at me crazy. 14 years old is too young to go to the movies alone for some people, let alone raise a child as a single mother, with very little help. I still can’t fathom how you did it. I know I joke when I say I’m glad you didn’t abort me, but ma I am glad. Despite my flaws, my inability to be accountable at times and my infatuation with drugs, you did an alright job.

I’m fearful of asking you things, asking you why you did things, how things were back then and the such, because I’m afraid of what I might learn. The time and place will come for that.

My happiest moments (despite how much I adore my siblings) were the times when it was just me and you. I only had a good five years of that until another man entered our lives and I was no longer the center of attention.

The defining moment in our relationship came when I was 14. Your husband, the father of your two other children, was deported to Mexico. You decided to pack up, take my brother and sister and follow your heart. At the time, I was confused, deeply deeply confused. I remember you making me promise you that this wouldn’t hurt our relationship. I told you it wouldn’t and I knew then that was a lie. I blamed you then and I’d be lying if I said the feelings of resentment are entirely gone. You have to put yourself in my shoes to understand, and I know you have tried your hardest, but you really need to think back to understand what was going through my head.

I’m 25 now and still haven’t figured everything out. Back then I was 14 and a timid shy child. I wasn’t a teenager, I was a child. While most at that age knew how to handle peer pressure, how to talk to the opposite sex and how to maneuver through the hallways of high school, I was years behind.

I had no father figure, no one to talk to about sports, girls or music. And when a man did enter your life, I hated him from the start. The older I grow the more I begin to understand. I’ve done stupid, outlandish and pitiful things in the name of love. I was sad and angry when you followed your heart to be with your husband, but now I see what love does to people when they’ve had nothing else in the world.

I know I’ve said a lot of hateful things to you during my life and I’ve blamed you for a lot of things. I just want you to know I am sorry. My piercing words and reckless actions are not a reflection of you, but merely a way of expressing my troubled soul. I was hurt, shit I still am, but I am healing.

Now that I’m 3000 miles away, on a different coast, and in a different time zone, I wish I cherished the moments we did have together. But I know more memories will come. You’re 40 years old momma and thriving. We got you.

Love,

Ruben Garcia Jr.