Letter 48 – Ava

Dear Garrett,

A lot of what I write about is painful. I hope that the act of examination will help soften the blow of the memories and the deep sadness as I put them to paper. I hope that the work of addressing and regurgitating this pain into the open air will help to better put my experiences into perspective.

There is one thing I’d like to talk about that is not painful but has been on my mind. This letter is not for you, Garrett, but I don’t think you’ll mind.

Ava.

There is no doubt in my mind that Garrett loved you. He loved you with everything that he was. I don’t know you terribly well, but I do know that.

You spent time at our house, but we didn’t talk very much. Most of your time was spent in his room, and that was fine. We chatted sometimes. I got to know you a little bit. I fed you occasionally and I was happy to have you there. But most of your relationship with my son was out of my sight, happening in other places, around other people.

I want to thank you for finding Garrett when he overdosed in his car. How can I thank you enough for that? You are a courageous young woman. Thank you.

I want to thank you for being part of Garrett’s life. For gifting him the experience of love. Hope, excitement, fights, romance, breaking up. All of it is good. For him to have experienced love before he had to go was a gift, and I thank you for that.

For all else, I ask you to let it fly away. As I’ve said many times in my thoughts and in other letters, we are only people being people. Doing the things that people do. You were a girl, being a girl, and he was a boy, being a boy. It’s enough. It’s enough that he loved you, and it’s enough that you loved him. I know there was joy. I know there was hope and excitement and laughing. I know the union between the two of you that was strong. It that’s enough.

Please let any darkness go. You deserve that for yourself. Let anything that is less than beautiful go from your life. I want for you to embrace only the good, and leave anything that is ugly behind.

One day, I’d like to see you and hear about how well you’re doing. I’d love to hear about a job that you’re excited about, or a degree you’re pursuing. I’d love to hear that you have great friends who are supportive and kind. And maybe one day, to hear about any new boy, who makes your heart beat a little faster when you think of him. You deserve that, Ava, and I want you to have it. I believe in you.

Thank you, Ava, for your brief visit into our lives. Thank you for loving my child and allowing him to experience his love for you. You are a beautiful young woman. You are strong and courageous. I wish only the very, very best for you.