Edited to add: I feel compelled to clarify that this piece is not about my parents or Kyle’s parents or any other family member.

To whom it does concern:

I don’t often think of you. Only when I notice one of the gifts you gave us or when someone else mentions you. It’s been years since I’ve seen you.

Not only did I enjoying spending time with you, I felt privileged to do so. You were so quick-witted; I hung on every word. I admired you in so many respects, and I basked in your affection for me.

I don’t remember when I began to sense that you were no longer interested in seeing me. But the last time I extended an offer, I felt silly for even reaching out (and I felt downright embarrassed when you were clearly not interested). I can’t deny that the rejection hurt my feelings, or at least it once did. Fortunately, now I’m more puzzled by it than anything else.

Is it because I’ve seen you behave in an undignified manner? Heard you say things that – in retrospect – you might find embarrassing or want to take back?

Is it because I made choices that were different from yours? Choices that perhaps you felt were wrong?

Or is it simply because I’m a kid? Even though I now have kids of my own (whom you’ve never met). I’d like to think that I didn’t behave childishly around you, but perhaps I did.

Sadly, I’ve resigned myself to the likelihood that I won’t see you again. I don’t know what I could have or should have done differently, but that’s of little consequence now. As they say, it’s OBE*.

Regretfully yours,

mothergoosemouse and family

*overcome by events

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