The Letter

In 1978, my grandfather died. In 1979, my mother filed for a legal separation from my father. In 1980, they divorced. I have always thought of the years that followed, my teenage years, as The Healing Time.

Shortly after my parents' divorce, I got a letter from my dad. In the envelope were two letters, actually. I'll never forget the moment I read that first letter:

Dear Cindy,
I know that this divorce is entirely your doing, and I blame you.
I don't love you and I never want to see you again.

Dad didn't sign his letters, so that was pretty much it.

I pulled the second one out and unfolded it:

Dear Cindy,
I've changed my mind. I think maybe I do still love you.
But I don't want to see you again for a long, long time.

That day, I showed great wisdom for a 14-year-old. I threw both letters in the trash. But I never did manage to forget them.