Dear Mom and Dad,
It’s been quite a while since we last connected, and I find myself unsure of what you may have heard or felt during this time. I married Jake a few summers back, and on March 15, 2013, I received the news that would change everything—I was pregnant! My very first thought was, “Wow, it really happened!” I eagerly reached for the phone to share the news that you would soon be grandparents, but I hesitated and put it down. Did you know that moment was bittersweet?
The first trimester was tough, and while I know you couldn’t have made the nausea disappear, having you around would have made a difference. Mom, you could have driven me to the midwife and the pharmacy for my medication. I longed for you to hold my hair back during those long nights spent over the toilet, just like you did for me as a little girl. But you weren’t there.
Laboring with little Ava lasted almost a full day. I delayed going to the hospital, afraid they might send me home. I didn’t know what to expect, but you did, Mom. You had experienced it all before. Dad, you were there by her side. You could have urged Jake to get me to the hospital sooner to avoid unnecessary pain, but silence filled the air.
Everything turned out fine, in case you’re wondering. Ava was born without complications, and it was one of the happiest moments of my life. But just days later, I noticed how Ava’s eyes mirrored yours, Mom. I couldn’t help but weep—an overwhelming sadness took over. Did you know that? Ava developed a bit of jaundice and required a short stay in the NICU. We were released after a couple of days, but I could have really used your support during that time. You never came to visit.
Watching Ava grow and reach new milestones has been indescribably beautiful, but it’s been hard knowing she doesn’t recognize you as her grandparents. You’re supposed to be a part of her life! Do you have any idea how painful that is for me?
Soon after, I found out I was pregnant again—earlier than we had planned, but we welcomed the news with joy. I worried about managing two kids under two; though with my brother and me being 11 years apart, you might not have had much advice to offer, I still would have loved to discuss it with you. Maybe you could have lent a hand as I adjusted to this new chapter of motherhood.
During my 20-week appointment, the ultrasound tech placed the baby’s gender in an envelope. I had hoped to share that moment with you both. Instead, Jake and I found out together in the garden at the hospital. Did you know that, Mom? Jake shouted the news to the universe—“We’re having a boy!” I wish we could have laughed about passing down that old baseball glove you gave me as a child. You could have taught Billy how to play catch, like you did with me. Did you know I named him after you?
The kids refer to you as Nana and Papa, and we look at your picture daily, saying “Hi.” Ava claims you’re “up in the blue sky” watching over her and Billy. Did you know how often I wished you were here? I don’t want you to feel guilty about any of this. Let me explain something.
Mom, when I took that first pregnancy test, I called Aunt Mary. We reminisced about how excited you and Dad would have been, and how wonderful you were with kids. Aunt Lisa drove me to get my prescription when I couldn’t keep food down. She rubbed my back and apologized it wasn’t you. Mary arrived to support me during labor, holding my hand before we headed to the hospital. My mother-in-law, Claire, was with me when Ava was born, and she assured me that you were there in spirit, Mom. Lisa brought us coffee while we stayed in the NICU. And Jake—he is the angel you sent to guide me. I do realize that.
None of them can replace you, but they’ve made things a little easier. Some days are bearable, while others feel utterly overwhelming without you. I promise I will always keep your memory alive. My kids will know how remarkable you were as parents and how much you loved them. I won’t delve into how heartbreaking it is to think of you missing these moments. Did you know how hard this would be without you? Did you grieve the cancer that stole your chance to meet Jake and the kids?
Sometimes, when my laughter echoes, I can hear echoes of you, Mom. And Dad, I find myself breaking into silly dances, just like you used to do around the house. My kids get to play with your spirit in these moments. While parenting without my own parents was never going to be easy, I’m taking it day by day. I talk about you often and think of you every single day, but I wonder, did you know all of this?
With love,
Emily
Summary
In this heartfelt letter, Emily expresses the profound absence of her parents in her life as she navigates the challenges and joys of motherhood. From her first pregnancy to the birth of her children, she reflects on moments where she wished they were present. Despite the support from family and friends, nothing can replace her parents. She vows to keep their memory alive, ensuring her children know how much they were loved. This poignant narrative encapsulates the emotional journey of parenting without the guidance of one’s own parents.
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