Chapter 24 - Patricia’s Last Letter
Patricia was seventy-eight when her health declined.
Heart failure.
She moved into assisted living after supervised release had long ended.
Lily was twenty.
Their relationship remained limited but real.
Daniel visited monthly.
I had still never seen Patricia in person since sentencing.
Then a letter came.
Emily,
I do not know whether I have enough time to ask this, so I will not ask to see you.
Good.
Then:
I want to tell you one thing I should have understood before Lily was born.
I read.
A crying baby is not evidence against her mother.
My eyes filled.
Then:
An exhausted mother is not an empty space another woman is entitled to fill.
There.
Then:
I thought if I made myself necessary enough, Daniel would choose me. I thought if Lily was calmer with me, I would win.
Then:
There was never anything to win.
I cried.
Then:
I am sorry I hit you. I am sorry I lied. I am sorry I gave Lily something no one had the right to give her. I am sorry I spent weeks making you doubt your own competence.
No excuse.
Then final:
You were her mother before I entered that hallway. You were still her mother after I tried to make everyone believe otherwise.
I sat for a long time.
Daniel asked:
“Do you want to see her?”
This time, yes.
I went once.
Assisted living lounge.
Daylight.
No dark robe.
No hospital.
Patricia looked frail.
“Emily.”
“Patricia.”
She cried.
I sat.
No hug.
Then:
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“Do you forgive me?”
“Yes.”
Her face collapsed.
Then I added:
“That does not mean what happened became acceptable.”
“I know.”
“It does not mean I wish we had been family differently.”
“I know.”
Then:
“Lily decides her relationship with you.”
“I know.”
Good.
We spoke twenty minutes.
Weather.
Daniel.
Lily’s college.
Nothing else.
When I left, Patricia did not ask me to return.
I didn’t.
She died eight months later.
Daniel and Lily attended the funeral.
I chose not to.
No anger.
No need.
Patricia’s estate was modest.
Savings.
Furniture.
Some jewelry.
Daniel inherited part.
Carol part.
Lily received a small educational bequest and Patricia’s knitted blanket.
No surprise fortune.
No secret apology video.
No hidden evidence.
The criminal case had ended years before.
The legal supervision ended.
Patricia died having changed some.
Not enough to erase what happened.
May you like
Enough to stop repeating it.
That was all anyone could honestly say.
