Chapter 20 - MARK’S FAILURE
I read Mark’s second letter alone.
It hurt more than the first.
I should have told you.
He wrote that three times.
Then:
I told myself secrecy was protection because you were already carrying my illness, the kids, the house, work, and watching me die. The truth is I was also ashamed.
Ashamed of what?
That Dad still scared me.
Mark was forty-three.
Successful.
A father.
A husband.
Dying.
Still scared of disappointing Richard.
I cried until anger came.
“You should have trusted me.”
No answer.
Dead husbands are rude that way.
The next paragraph:
You may hate me for leaving instructions instead of conversations. You would be right.
That made me cry harder.
He knew.
Love did not make the choice good.
I eventually told Noah and Sophie an age-appropriate version.
“Dad was trying to protect us.”
Sophie asked:
“Then why are you mad?”
“Because protection without including someone can still hurt them.”
Noah said:
“He should’ve told us Grandpa was dangerous.”
“Yes.”
“Would you have stopped seeing him?”
“Probably.”
“Maybe Dad wanted us to have Grandpa while he was alive.”
Maybe.
A loving motive.
May you like
Still a cost.
We did not turn Mark into a saint because he died.
