To say I’m apprehensive about publishing this letter is true so I won’t try to justify it. I’ll just do it knowing that it all came from a place of hurt where a wound was left. And I will hope that, like my daughter told me, there is healing in it not just for me, but for anyone else who might need it. But I finished copying and pasting it and then noticed that my sister, oh my God, my wonderful, loving sister wrote things that made me weep and I realize how lucky I am to live in a family of brawny, robust and forceful women. So, here goes.
Christy,
Apparently you are under the impression that I welcomed your advice. Don’t make that mistake again. Let me plainly say that I will not get any more ignorant letters from your or your family. Had you bothered to find out the facts and not rush to judgment, you would see just how foolish your letter was. Even when you state “No one but God knows I am writing you” I realized that you didn’t bother to seek council from any other being because, if they had any sense at all, they would have tried to stop you. You didn’t bother to consult your husband, pastor, or best friend? How sad you don’t trust them to have given you sage advice.
You say that you “feel the Lord” told you to write a letter to me. Well, sometimes God allows people to do stupid things in order to teach them a lesson. For example, Balaam and his donkey were used by God to show foolishness. He thought he was doing the right thing, but it took the donkey to make him stop. Peter was willing to fight with the sword and Jesus rebuked him. He told him that he had his own interests at heart. Hopefully, by now you have seen the error of writing that letter and have learned the lesson God had for you.
You couldn’t be more right when you said it was none of your business. You are, in no stretch of the imagination, an outsider. You have someone else’s well being at stake: your daughter. You are clearly her confidant and want the best for her, but your shortsightedness and ignorance found their way into a barely comprehensible letter.
Most interesting is how you, a person who has met my daughter all of two times, think you know that she feels “she was an accident.” Did you sense that all by yourself? Do you have a degree in child psychology? Somehow, I missed the PhD at the end of your name. Again, you even say in that paragraph that you “don’t know all the details” and that was your clue to stop writing. The kind of letter is one that should be written and then thrown away. If all you wanted to do was praise Mallory, then fine. I would have accepted that. If all you wanted to do was point out to me that my daughter was ungrateful, then shame on you. You don’t even know me. You don’t have any clue about my daughter or how I raised her and you don’t know me. You dropped your shit about your daughter’s hurt and financial well being at MY feet. Since when am I in charge of those things? What business is that to me? I don’t concern myself with the financial situation of others and yet you felt the need to let me in on something your daughter and son-in-law would be appalled to know.
You spend time in your letter telling me that Richard Cranium has felt guilt. Did you think that needed to be told to me? Do you think I care? Who do you think you are? Since when were you appointed the disseminator of information about situations that don’t concern me? A trip out there to visit was offered to my daughter. I did not ask for it. You also say that you appreciate family togetherness. How similar we are! I do, too! After her semester was over I was hoping for some family togetherness and I didn’t get it until she returned from an emotionally exhausting trip to a place where she doesn’t know anyone and in a house that is not her home. She wanted to come home early and that didn’t happen. Do you know why that is? Is it, perhaps, because Richard Cranium didn’t want to spend the extra money to send her home? Is it because he didn’t want to send her back on my time frame? He would have known all this information if he would ask, but since he finds it easier to go through a child and be a coward about it, then there are all kinds of miscommunication and IT’S NOT MY FAULT! So what if I’m “harsh” on the phone? You have my DAUGHTER and there’s nothing more important in the world than my children. And yet Richard Cranium refuses to speak to me because he doesn’t like my tone? Too bad! When you are faking parenting, as he is doing with Mallory, then of course one would screw it up and take the easy way out.
Who in this world doesn’t live “paycheck to paycheck”? Most Americans do and why would you dare point this out to me? How dare you do so in that accusatory tone. If you wonder if Mallory thinks your home is nice and Richard Cranium’s home and his other daughter’s toys are abundant, IT’S BECAUSE THEY ARE! And people who appear to have much, have much. Was it a hologram? Did she imagine it?
How ironic that you would tell me that you expect your daughter to be treated like a queen and be surprised when others want the same. In fact, I don’t want my daughter treated like a queen by him. All she ever wanted and needed was to be treated like a daughter. She needs the space to take and take and expect a lot from him and you don’t want her to because you are concerned about finances. This is obvious because you go to great lengths to explain their finances and how hard things are and yet you say that that was not your intention.
You don’t get to validate my feelings with “I’m sorry you took my letter that way”. You get to take responsibility for opening your mouth and offering unsolicited comments. What a joke when you say that you only live in a large home because of an inheritance. Can’t you sell it? Don’t you want to since you seem intent on bailing your daughter out? Or is it easier to go through my daughter and me and not deal with the real problem…spending money when you don’t have it? Don’t you dare lay their burdens of money on me.
You accuse me of trying to punish Richard Cranium. How would that occur? What are you talking about? What does that even mean? You say that you want me to get over the jealousy Mallory feels toward Richard Cranium’s other daughter? Please, let me know how that is done!!! Write a big book about it and let the whole world know. How selfish of you to keep that precious information to yourself. My, the crises that could be avoided with your infinite knowledge of how to raise children. Unfortunately, you forgot to equip your daughter with a backbone. How can you be surprised at her marriage when you saw what you wanted to see? You accuse me of not having the right answers to handle situations concerning Mallory? I don’t have the answers and I certainly don’t need to hear that from a stranger. Is this how you raised your children by getting ignorant letters in the mail from people you didn’t know and then applying that to their upbringing?
News Flash: he DOES owe her. And no amount of money in the world that he could conjure up would be enough. You suggest that “forgiveness can be shown when [I] and [my] husband and your daughter and Richard Cranium can trust each other and communicate with each other with no jealousy”. This is ludicrous in light of the fact that Richard Cranium isn’t even honest with his own wife. You expect ME to come in and fix that? Something wrong in THEIR marriage? That is laughable and so ridiculous I can’t even begin to respond to it.
Finally, you say that you “want the best for her.” What if the best for her hurts your daughter? What if the best for her means that Richard Cranium has to make some huge sacrifices and grow up? Are you going to accept that? Are you going to be responsible for that, because, frankly, I don’t have time or energy to raise your daughter and her husband, too. I’ve been busy.
April 16, 2008 @ 8:45 pm | Filed under I Sent You A Letter, Lessons I'm Learning | Permalink |
Elizabeth Said,
April 16, 2008 @ 9:11 pm
That is a very powerful letter. I hope it hit her in the middle of her forehead and left a mark.
I am of the opinion that Karma is a bitch… and she’s got a long memory.
Caffeinated Librarian Said,
April 16, 2008 @ 9:40 pm
“…I don’t have time or energy to raise your daughter and her husband, too. I’ve been busy”
Best. Line. Ever.
Angella Said,
April 16, 2008 @ 10:15 pm
You are an amazing woman of strength and virtue.
Also!
I just realized that we are not only hair twins, but faith twins.
Jesus conquers all, yo.
Raquita Said,
April 17, 2008 @ 5:35 am
STANDING OVATION
“Bravo!!! Bravo! Well played! Here Here!!” All in my best very bad british accent
Richard Cranium… classic..
anonymous Said,
April 17, 2008 @ 7:09 am
You are brilliant. First for writing it, second for not sending it. Bravo.
Gillian Said,
April 17, 2008 @ 7:46 am
I second “anonymous.” The thing that makes this letter extra brilliant is that you never sent it, something dumbitch Christy should’ve figured out.
Mallory shares Richard Cranium’s DNA - but, if I could venture a guess, I would say she is all Mocha.
Heather Said,
April 17, 2008 @ 8:18 am
Catharsis is the right word. Just writing that letter must have made you feel better. And I think not sending it was the triumph.
Heather Said,
April 17, 2008 @ 8:33 am
Forgot to tell you that I left you some bling on my blog.
Chris Said,
April 17, 2008 @ 11:20 am
I haven’t been here in a while, so I’m a little behind and hopefully will catch up soon
((((((((Hugs)))))))
I hope that she got the point and Bravo to you for not letting her win
Sally Said,
April 17, 2008 @ 12:00 pm
you, strong woman, have a gift with the word. i’ve got a few letters that you could ghost-write for me. seriously. you write with such a powerful voice that my hands were shaking as i read your last 2 posts. you are dead-on that healing can come as much from reading as it can from writing. thank you from the bottom of my heart for these.
Mocha Momma Said,
April 17, 2008 @ 7:57 pm
“Nice” is an underrated word. It sums up how I’m feeling reading this and I would love to send you all some Very Festive Pomegranate body lotion from B&B Works. They’re all out, though.
Sending you Nice Pomegranate Thoughts instead. You smell wonderful.
White Hot Magik Said,
April 17, 2008 @ 8:32 pm
Catharsis kicks ass!
Dana Said,
April 17, 2008 @ 9:04 pm
I’ve always wanted to write a scathing letter to people who think they are so goddamn smart. so self-righteous. but I never get enough guts. I’m a wimp. I imagine it felt so damn good to say all of this! I love it. I need to grow some vujayhas and do this myself.
Siobhan Said,
April 17, 2008 @ 9:48 pm
I just realised I’ve “known” you for three years now. I want to say I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately, I was in Scotland for three weeks visiting my terminally ill Gran, and then attending her funeral. I understand completely about the art of letter writing, it IS a lost art, and one my own grandmother taught me well, too.
Not only does this showcase your strength and resoluteness, it breathes the love you have for your Mallory. In the end, all we have in life is the love with share with those closest to us, and you have shown we should celebrate it and cling to it. You are a monument to other mothers and their cubs.
Tricia Said,
April 17, 2008 @ 11:11 pm
Brava!!
I realize you didn’t send it. Curious about how often you may have re-read those words…and for what reasons? Or was it tucked away?
Have you ever heard from her again?
Mocha Momma Said,
April 18, 2008 @ 4:52 am
I’m still touched by the nice comments here and the ones I’m getting via email. Personal stuff like this touches a nerve and NO, I DON’T MIND if you “bother me with email”. I love this community I’ve found. Never worry about that.
Tricia - I only re-read it when I “accidentally” find it. It’s never on purpose. Never a I wonder where that letter is hiding and maybe I’ll find it to re-read. Her letter to me, however, is gone forever. I don’t keep hateful stuff around like that. Bad karma and all.
She wised up after we spoke on the phone. One brush with me was all she could handle in her lifetime. The next one would surely do her in.
Lisse Said,
April 20, 2008 @ 6:35 am
I don’t comment here often, but I just have to say that I wish I had half your strength and confidence.
I’m always impressed with how someone else’s bad behavior jumps right out at you, and you go ahead and call it what it is.
I would spend too much time wondering if I did something wrong.
MommyWithAttitude Said,
April 20, 2008 @ 11:05 pm
I would comment on this letter, but I’m still weeping over your sister’s comment. How blessed you are all around — and think of the bitterness that must be eating the life out of Christy to give her the nerve to send something so vile to someone.
zingy Said,
April 21, 2008 @ 9:35 am
dayum…remind me not to get on your bad side. But, I might with this comment…it’s definitely not my place to comment but hey, you made it public and a lot of what you wrote brought some specific experiences to mind.
I’m one of those children whose father owes her too. Big time. Big, big, hugely, massively…you get the point. As time goes on, I think you start to realize that it doesn’t matter what people owe you, it just matters what you do from then on. Who says the score has to be evened? Since when is life fair? Us girls who grow up being owed Big Ones tend to grasp that fun little insight early on.
When I was 19 and a sophomore in university, I took a job in Taiwan for a summer. It was hellish, hellacious and horrible. It was not much short of indentured servitude. I worked all day, every day, and was under lock and key for three months. Nonetheless, the experience held many life lessons for me and did it ever prepare me for the military…being uncomfortable is not always a bad thing. As
There’s my unwanted, unasked for $.02. If this post is really too annoying to tolerate, please just hit delete and forget it ever crossed your path.
zingy Said,
April 21, 2008 @ 9:36 am
…and damn this tricky keyboard that posted that comment before I was ready…
Mocha Said,
April 21, 2008 @ 5:18 pm
Zingy, so long as this community of readers and writers is about learning I won’t delete comments.
You’re right, though. She, nor anyone else in this world, is owed anything. It was purely the topical monetary issues I was talking about at that time because he is so incapable of anything emotional where she’s concerned.
It is SUCH a gain for me, though! And I know that I am lucky beyond any words that could express it.
Betsy Said,
April 22, 2008 @ 6:24 am
1. Amazing.
2. Beautiful.
3. The pseudonym Richard Cranium? Brilliant!!
Jessica Said,
April 22, 2008 @ 2:09 pm
Wow…you are strong…I can’t believe you didn’t send that. I would have…it still amazes me how some people think it is their right to tell how to live your life or raise your children. It makes me want to throw up…hmmm I think I need to write a letter too.
Mocha Momma » When I Think About You I Tag Myself Said,
June 8, 2008 @ 9:02 pm
[...] (Nope. Can’t do it. I’m a chatty Cathy.) 9. Write a letter. I think perhaps I’ve proven that one. 10. Buy a suit. Let’s just say that I have an affinity for shopping. 11. Swim three [...]
june Said,
June 10, 2008 @ 6:32 pm
I have found your site and have foundcourage simply from your writings, and sitting here wishing I could put my thoughts as eloquently as you do. Recently I had a fall out with a long time friend and have written a letter to her, also, with the intention of sending it yet part of me, that nice part (LOL) wants to forget about it. Thank you for your inspiration–you are a strong woman! Congratulations!
Mocha Momma » Keep Your Acceptance Speeches Short Said,
June 23, 2008 @ 7:49 am
[...] who rarely comments, but once wrote of my favorite things in my angry letter in Catharsis. She wrote: “I’m always impressed with how someone else’s bad behavior jumps right out at [...]