Letters Written in White (13 page)

“Never take your present for granted

because one day you will want it back.”

STARING INTO MY past once again, I find myself looking at the younger me and our firstborn child as an infant. No one’s here telling me what to do this time, but I already know.
Write it all down
, they told me. Why, I still don’t know, but I do it because I don’t know what else to do.

The baby’s crying. I’m crying. We cry together yet we’re separated by so much. My guilty tears mix with his needy ones and they become a mixture of remorse and fear. He wants to be comforted, yet I have no real desire to soothe him. The beat of his tiny heart against me is void of a true connection to mine. I lie back on the bed with his head resting on my chest. Robotically, I pat his back in an empty attempt to calm him down. I can’t even get myself together lately, so how am I supposed to help him when he’s upset? Thick emotional ropes are wrapped around my heart, tugging at my resolve. I’m at a crescendo again. The feeling is so familiar. I can’t see the bottom just yet, but it calls to me.

I have to pull it together. The real challenge is how. The urge to tear myself to pieces is all I feel. Sometimes allowing the darkness to consume you is easier than fighting for the light. His cries begin to quiet and I take a deep breath. I keep patting his back in hopes he will finally fall asleep. As soon as all I hear is the faint breathing from his tiny mouth, I exhale in relief, close my eyes, and think back to a happier time when I didn’t feel so much despair. Only minutes go by before I hear crying.

Grayson walks in, and as always, he puts me at ease with his presence alone and says, “I’ve got him.”

Moments pass by and the crying stops.

“He’s asleep,” he says, closing the bedroom door behind him.

I take in a deep breath. “I need to talk to you about some things.” My hearts races at the thought of telling him everything that’s been going on inside my mind.

He sits on the edge of the bed. I’m sitting cross-legged with my book in my lap.

“Okay. Is everything all right?” His brows crease and worry scurries across his face.

“No, not really,” I whisper.

He looks exhausted. It’s my fault he’s so exhausted. He turns onto his side, facing me. “What is it, babe?”

I shake my head from side to side. I set my Kindle down. I begin nervously fidgeting with my hands. “Something is really wrong with me, Grayson. I don’t think I was meant to be a mom.”

He frowns. “What on earth do you mean by that? Of course you were.”

I shake my head. “No, I wasn’t. Something weird and awful has been happening with me ever since the baby came. I don’t feel things a mom should feel. I don’t…I don’t know how to explain this. It’s just really bad.”

He doesn’t say anything, as if he’s trying to take in what I’m saying. Before he has a chance to respond, I have to get this all out, or I’ll lose my courage to tell him.

“I have bad thoughts that I don’t want to think. I have no desire to play with him, hold him, or to nurture him in any way. The awful truth is…I never hold him. When you aren’t home, he stays in the crib or swing. I hold him when you’re home, but only to try to prove to you I’m doing a good job. I’m not doing a good job at all. I’m a terrible mother.”

His unreadable expression makes me nervous. He sits up and holds his hand out to me. “Come here.”

He pulls me into him and I exhale. “My God, babe, why have you been holding all of this in?”

I squeeze him in relief. He doesn’t sound angry at all. “You’re aren’t upset?”

I feel his warm breath at my ear. “No, I’m not. I hate that you didn’t tell me sooner. You have to communicate with me, Riah. This is important and I needed to know.”

He pauses briefly. I can feel my pulse thumping in my ears. Admitting my failures is suffocating. He deserves so much more than this.

“Everything is going to be okay. I think this is pretty common with new mothers. We just need to get you in to see a doctor and see what they can do to help us.”

When he says us, relief blooms inside of me. I’m not as alone as I thought I was.

A loud noise startles me and I see the next mirror moving. It’s vibrating with a loud buzzing sound. I tear my eyes away from the one I’m looking into and focus my attention on this one. I step in closer to it and I don’t see anything inside. The buzzing sound increases in volume and then grows quiet, being replaced by a beautiful melody. It’s hypnotic.

I lean in and press my ear against it, and I tumble through. With a thump, I hit a wall. To my right is a stairway. It’s white, of course. For a moment, I stare at the steep stairway. What’s at the top? Do I even want to know? I turn and look back only to see the opening is gone. I have no choice but to find out what’s at the top of the stairs. Just as I top the stairs, I hear the music more clearly. The silken sound of violins wraps around me. It’s comforting. I almost smile. Almost. When I take the last step and see what’s waiting for me at the top, I am breathless.

It’s my wedding day.

I’m astounded, sitting here trying to absorb everything I’m seeing. It’s all exactly as it was on the day of. Even the air smells the same. My senses are hyperaware of everything and it’s overpowering. The weeping willows are swaying in the cool breeze. It’s a beautiful sight to behold. I had always dreamed of an outdoor wedding along the Potomac. When it all came together flawlessly, I was overjoyed by the happiness that day gave me. I take a step forward and actually feel the lush green grass beneath my bare feet. Everyone is here, just like back then. Not one detail is different. I feel like I’ve been placed in a time machine and transported back to that very place and time. I watch and allow myself to get lost in the day all over again. Grasping the pen in my hand, I start writing and the words come with great ease this time.

My heart was racing. I could barely get enough air into my lungs. My hands were gripping the bouquet of lilies tightly as my father stood confidently by my side. I looked up at the man I never connected with all my life. On this day I saw something I’d never seen in his eyes before: pride. He was proud to stand with me. My heart swelled and I exhaled. Forgiveness is the most difficult thing, but it’s also the most freeing. I squeezed his arm and he gave me a reassuring nod.

Grayson and I decided our wedding wouldn’t be traditional. Our lives had been everything but traditional, so we figured we’d follow suit on this day as well. I wouldn’t be walking down the aisle to the wedding march. We chose a song that fit how we felt about committing ourselves to each other until death do us part.

My father looked down at me and smiled. “It’s time. Ready?”

“More ready than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Chariots of Fire” by Vangelis played and I took the first step to my forever. A trail of white and red rose petals led to the ornately decorated arbor. It was a small wedding with a group of our closest friends and family. We didn’t have groomsmen and bridesmaids. My mother was waiting for us along with Grayson and the priest. She had the ring. It was early evening and there were small white lights covering all of the surrounding trees. Large white lanterns with flickering candles inside lined the seating area. The large arbor crafted from vines and natural wood had countless white roses and beautiful greenery on it. At the center of the arbor was the love of my life. His simple white shirt and dark denim jeans were perfect. We both decided we didn’t want to do the traditional wedding attire either. We just wanted to keep it simple. He looked up, flashing those eyes at me…magnetic, deep baby blues. He had eyes that preempted you to dream and hope his every dream and hope. Grayson had eyes full of promises I just knew he’d never break. I wanted to dive into those oceans of blue and submerge myself completely, bathing in him and never coming up for air. Only a couple more steps and I’d be there, to my happily ever after.

One step.

Two steps.

His eyes moved from my face down the simple scoop-neck white dress and then back to my eyes. The corners of his perfect mouth crooked up, and he smiled wide until it reached his eyes. He was glowing with happiness. So was I. My father unhooked his arm from mine and took my hand. He then leaned down, placing a kiss on my cheek before placing my hand in Grayson’s.

“Take good care of her, son.”

Grayson nodded proudly. “I will.”

The priest began with a prayer and I took a deep breath. Grayson squeezed my hand and I squeezed back. He knew I was nervous, and I know he was too even though he’d never show it. As soon as the prayer was over, everyone took their seats and it was time to marry the man of my dreams.

I wrote him a poem in place of traditional vows.

“From darkness you were my light.

I vow to love and honor you on the rainiest of mornings, brightest of days, and throughout the longest of nights.

From the beginning I loved you.

I vow to be your middle until your end.

You plucked me from a withering tree.

I vow to swim by your side when the waters are calm or crashing and angry.

Across our table of life, my hopes and your dreams are scattered about.

I vow to dream your dreams while you hope my hopes.

I say this unto you with a clear mind, full heart, and zero doubt.

Our table will forever be bountiful until death do us part.

For I once told you…you’re my everything.

My love for you will forever be.”

He wrote me a story rather than vows.

“Many years ago I met a girl, an unexpected girl. I gave her my secrets. She gave me her heart. Her smile was small, but oh how it was contagious. Her laugh was rare, but oh how it infected me. I wasn’t looking for love. It arrived anyway. In the form of midnight hair that kissed ivory elbows, emerald colored eyes that intoxicated me, and words that whispered a truth that was freeing, you found me. The past holds many of our failures, fears, and pains. Our future will have some of the same. I vow to you, Riah, I’ll always stand by you no matter the failures, the fears, or the troubles. I, Grayson Winter, will love you and all of our pieces from now until the end of time. Our love story will never be perfect, yet I promise you it will always be ours. There’s nothing I’ll ever want more. I promise on this day before our family, friends, and God that you’ll forever be my beginning and my end.”

I saw Grayson kissing me. We said our beautiful promises to one another. Our vows were perfect. On our wedding day, I had nothing but hopes for a happy future. I knew hard times would come, but I never expected them to come so soon. Waves of remorse flood my mind. Why did I let us get so lost? How could we get from there, a heartfelt and love-filled wedding day, to misery and discontent? I don’t want to watch anymore. I don’t want to remember anything else about how much we loved each other. It hurts too much. Our choices along the way inflicted so many wounds on our marriage. The true murderer of our love was life. We stopped living in our love and started dying in the mundane aspects of everyday life. Then my depression came back hard and heavy. We were doomed, and at the time I thought there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I stop writing because the memories are draining me. We believed the words we said on our wedding day. We felt them and we reveled in them. It’s sad to see what time can do to such beautiful promises. It is said that promises are made to be broken. But as I stand here now and recall so vividly how I felt on that day, I know one thing for sure: memories can never be broken or stolen.

They always remain.