I know you ainít here but I figure one graveyardís much like another and I wanted to talk with you so I come here. Itís a year today and I cainít say itís been a great year but it ainít been a bad one neither. Itís jesí been.
I read your diaries. I know you woní mind. You even said in one of Ďem the reason you wrote it was soís some day I could read it. I liked that. Just know that you are loved and you were born of love. Thereís no need to worry or wonder about that. You remember writin that? First few months I read that everí day, overíníover. Made me feel special. Two people loved me. Even if one wasní my daddy.
I was relieved Ďbout that, tell the truth. You aní me, we both know daddy wasní much of a man. Makes it easier to keep on hatin him when he ainít real kin.
But then thereís you, momma.
I doní mind that daddy ainít my daddy. I doní mind you cheatin on him. But thing is, you lied to me, too. Everthin in that diary of yours, everthin Ďbout fallin in love and me bein born of love, itís all a lie, ainít it?
You should of known your baby girl would grow up obstinate, jesí like you. Tell me not to do a thing aní Iím like to break my neck doiní it. Donít wonder about that. Well, of course I was gonna wonder. Itís 3759 miles from Berea to Crieff, from home to the place I was conceived. Aní thatís where I went. Lived where you lived. Met the folks you met.
Checked the stories from your diary.
Aní none of Ďemís true.
Why? Why tell me my daddy was one of your friends when he wasní? I met them, and theys nice folks aní all, but not daddy material. So I dug deeper. Aní I found him. My daddy. Yeah, I met him. Liked him a whole bunch, too. I understand myself better, knowin him. Impulsive. Cranky. Yeah, thatís me, thatís him. Us.
But thing is, momma, he died a month ago. Aní it was only after he died I found out who he really was. So I found my daddy but never got to tell him, aní that hurts. Real bad. Had him, lost him. All because you lied. Before I was even born you was lyin to me. Shit, I been lied to all my life.
So hereís the deal. I love you. I always will. But at the same time, in the same thought, Iíll always hate you. You give me a daddy aní you took him away, aní Iíll be alone rest of my life cos of that. Because, if I cainít trust you, who can I?
So Iíll see you, momma. Burn a little in hell for me. But not too much. Jesí enough to feel what I feel.