My daughter Autumn

My Daughter Autumn,

When first I laid eyes upon you, you captured my heart, immediately I knew I would do anything to protect you. So small those initial moments when we held you, kissed your blushed cheeks and bare head, marveling at the perfection of your form. We spent many a moment praising God for you, a miracle as you were.

By necessity I watched from a distance as you aged and grew, your brilliant ember enlarged ever brighter day by day. Many prayers were offered for you in those days, till we were parted by what I was told were your wishes. Years passed as I wrote you letters that would never be sent, and poems none would read, and I aged, changed. I would like to say I grew by leaps and bounds, but that may be hubris. I learned who I was so that I could appreciate the fullness of who you are and love you even more for it.

There was not a single day where a prayer for you was not uttered to the Father. I learned in the decade of silence between us what it means to be patient, even in pain. I waited until a stranger suggested that it was time to reach out to my daughter once more. You were turning 19 then and I rejoiced at the opportunity to learn about and converse with you. I shared small pieces of myself with you and you with me, I cherish and will continue to do so even in your silence.

I’m not sure why you got angry, or why you stopped responding, but you must know, those small interactions were the sweetest moments of joy to my soul. Now that you have ghosted me, I feel as if I am indeed in the realm of the dead. No matter what I say, or do, you’re still gone. My eyes and heart ache to hear your mature voice, so changed from the child I knew. My arms long to gather you to myself and rejoice in the fully grown miracle of your existence. You are still gone, and I am left with your ghost, you live to yourself and others, but not for me.

I am uncertain how to contain the immense amount of heartache I suffer from having tasted the good of knowing you, and the heartbreak of your silence. I know I am due a certain amount of malice for my choices, but this yoke is laden with regret, and I am stymied in loss.

I will do something different today than in years past. I will post and publish my letters and my heart for you to see it plainly. I love you, Autumn.