Dear Poppy,
One night I heard you and Mummy in the office speaking in hushed tones. Through the shut door, I picked up Mummy’s voice, like a silent cry for attention. “Pierrot, please…” I think she was asking for another family vacation again, probably the trip to Mexico she’s been planning for a while. But then I heard your deep dominant voice speak up and that was that. Whatever Mummy was planning had been dismissed. I guess you had to work again or maybe you couldn’t take time off. Now that I think about it were you ever off? Were you ever available? I remember another night when Mummy slaved in the kitchen for six hours cooking up a beautiful feast for you. It took forever for Alain, Sebastian, and me to set up the table to her liking. You know how she’s picky and meticulous on everything. But when it was all done and perfect, all we were missing at the family table was you. An hour later you called to say you had to stay overnight at the hospital again. I cried myself to sleep that night. I never told you that.
In my adolescent stage characterized with skewed wisdom, work came first. But as a child it was different. Every night you were home early with my favorite Snickers bar in your warm hands for your three children and a kiss for your wife. You spoiled me with your sweet admiration, contagious laugh, and insatiable attention. I was daddy’s little girl and everyone knew it. Then things changed. I felt animosity and irritation burning inside every time you walked out that front door. But I could not bear to show that. I loved you too much to openly hurt you. I could not look into your soft eyes with such harsh emotions. Everyone understood the need to support our wealthy lifestyle, but I couldn’t. I never felt justified to feel so angry with you. I’m selfish and I know it. How could I who wanted to go to great expensive schools that demanded loads of money tell you I could not accept you working so much? But I didn’t want the things money could buy, but the time I could never get back.
I never told you how I felt and I think nineteen years means I’ve waited too long. I want to tell you so much. I want the ideal father-daughter relationship. I want you to beat up the boys in my life who will break my heart and love the man in my life who will marry me one day. I want you to be my first shelter I run to when I’m scared. I still want to be your little girl. But I also want to say how much I appreciate you and what your work has essentially done for me. You work so much because you love it, but more importantly because you love me. You want give me the good life that you had to struggle so hard for. Because you worked so much, I am where I am today, attending a prestigious college and excelling in academic excellence. You taught me the value of both education and hard work. I appreciate all of this. I understand now and I don’t feel the same hideous way. Poppy, I love you so much and I miss you and your comforting embrace in this hectic college world. I just have one parting question: Can you be my forever best friend?
Love,
Stephanie
Stephanie
