Unwritten: The Brooklyn Pieper Story (continued)

Disclaimer: all characters in this short story are fictional/creations of my own imagination. Sights and locations are based on real cities/towns/National Parks located in the Western United States.

Note: This section begins with the letter Dianna Michelle/Kenna Farclay wrote to a young Brooklyn.

My dearest Brooklyn, my darling daughter: 

If you are reading this, then you found the book and library hidden from the world. I hope you find it after a long, blissful life filled with more smiles than tears. I hope your hair is white and your eyes bright from a long life, but what I hope most of all is you never have to find this letter. I hope you never live life without a mother, but I fear that is impossible. Your father will never remarry, and I fear death is standing by my bedside.

I hoped to tell you the truth in person one day, but there are too many forces out of my control. For months, I prayed something would take me away from the world and rid me of the horrible guilt over what happened in Boston. Every day, I asked to trade places with the murdered man, but it never happened. 

Then I met your father, and you were born. Those two days were the happiest of my life. For the first time in years, I felt like my life was worth living. Then cancer struck, fulfilling my long unanswered prayers. If I could take them back, I would. Every last one if it meant I could spend the rest of my lifetime raising you. 

Brooklyn, I am so proud of you, and I wish I had the chance to get to know you. You were a beautiful, sweet baby, and I know you grew up to be a beautiful, brave, strong woman. You never let the world destroy you, even when it had countless chances. You stayed true to yourself, and that has made you more powerful than you realize.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you through your first break up. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to try on prom dresses. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see you walk down the aisle, to babysit your children, to question your parenting methods. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see you graduate and climb the tallest mountain you could find. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for your first kiss, your first love, your first job. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to watch cheesy rom-coms with you after hard days at school or protect you from your overprotective father. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to watch you grow up, to witness your life and guide you through its twists and turns. It is my greatest regret in my short life: not being there for you when you needed me most.

There is one piece of advice I must give you: do not let darkness consume your life. Do not obsess over the things you cannot control. Do not become vengeful for the things taken from you. Do not harden your heart, even when it has already been through so much turmoil. Do not turn into a robot and push those who love you away. Rather let them in before it’s too late. 

Do not be afraid to live, my darling daughter. Do go out and meet new friends. Let them in. Let them get to know the real you, the you I love and adore and always will. I miss you, more than you know, and I love you more than life itself. 

Love, 

Mom