Without Hesitation

There was a room in my head that I hid away in when my surroundings got too overwhelming. It lacked light, sound and smell. I could shut off mentally there until I deemed it was okay for me to clock back into life. The last few weeks I found myself checking out from everything more often, and I knew my family especially had taken notice. I don’t think it surprised them when it started happening more, considering my Pap was the glue that held all of us together. He was the one who kept me on my feet and refused to let me sink into the hole I tried digging for myself the last couple of years. With him gone, there hasn't been much to grab onto to pull myself back out.

Coming home that day wasn’t any different than previous days. I parked my car in the driveway, thankful I wasn’t parking in my work’s lot. Today was one of my few days off. The need to pay off my car loan before college in the fall was a constant thought and worry as of late. The front door was unlocked, immediately telling me my mom was home early from the hospital. My dad’s car was absent in the garage, indicating another late shift at the store. I knew mom would be in the kitchen making dinner, and sticking to my normal routine, and walked past the kitchen arch, hearing but ignoring her acknowledgment of me.

I didn’t intentionally like making her or my dad feel bad. It’s my lack of energy to do anything but school, work and homework when I get home that stops me from doing much interacting. My friends easily notice, asking me every day where I’m at mentally. Not much changes day to day, so the day they stopped asking was one I was looked forward to. I’d like to think they wouldn’t, but everyone has their limit.

My room is at the end of the hall from the top of the stairs, tucked away from the rest of my family’s rooms. It’s secluded, which I’ve become more appreciative off in the last few months. My large window faces the plant covered backyard, providing me with a pretty calming view on my crappier days. I knew today was going to be a big window kind of day. I planned on settling into the bench seat underneath, focusing on the mound of homework I was thankful to have as my hideaway excuse, and maybe listen to some sad vibes music Spotify always has to offer. What I didn’t plan on was opening my door and seeing a white box laying on my black duvet. My backpack went to the floor by the door as I shut it and I made the short walk to my bed to investigate.

I knew I didn’t order anything, and if I had, it certainly wouldn’t have been brought up to my room. I would have found it on the stand next to the front door. The only indication that the box was meant for me, other than its placement, was my name written longhand across the top. I should have hesitated, maybe asked my mom if it was from her, but my self-preservation skills left me in that moment.

As I sat down on the edge of my bed, my hands hovered over the box lid as I debated for a short, few seconds if I should just bring it downstairs. It wasn’t that I never got random gifts growing up, but it had been a long, couple of years since I had. After opening the box, I think I expected something more three dimensional, but instead, all that sat in the bottom was a piece of paper, folded into itself in the shape of a triangle. I immediately had a feeling I knew who it was from, and I had to swallow after I felt my throat get tight. My hands shook slightly as I pulled out what I assumed was a letter, and once it was unfolded, my assumption was proved true.

The paper was smaller than a typical notebook size, and its color was tinted a pale yellow with almost transparent black lines versus the standard white with dark blue lines. It for sure wasn’t something I recognized of his, but I focused my mind and started taking in what was written, and almost instantly, that tight feeling in my throat grew bigger with just the first three words.

My unique Samwise, I’m beyond sorry that I had to leave you. I intended on watching you grow and move beyond the simplicity around you and fly into your true life, but my life had other plans laid out for me.

I wish so deeply that I could have said all this to you in person, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my desires a secret and have someone else ruin them.

A few stray tears fell onto the top part of the paper, thankfully above the writing. I dragged the heel of my hand along my cheek, wiping away the remains so they wouldn’t crash to the paper.

I know the family means well, and I don’t doubt they intended every good feeling towards you. There was no ill will meant by them, but you and I both know they would never be able to truly love and accept you for who you are meant to be. The last two years were heartbreaking to see. Your light slowly started to dim, and there was nothing I could do to spark it again. I tried my best to keep it lit, even the smallest amount. I just hope this letter doesn’t reach you too late and you can keep that flame burning, even just a little.

I need you to understand how important you are in this world, even if you haven’t found your true purpose. I need you to stay around long enough to find it and prove to yourself you are worthy, because no one else matters, not even the idea of this old man you call Pap. As much as it would make me happy to know you’re living your life to make me proud, you have to understand you don’t need to do anything to make me proud. I’ve had that pride since the day you were born, and nothing was ever going to change that. I accept you fully, but you need to accept yourself, too.

I couldn’t stop the tears falling down at this point. It wasn’t just the writing. I could hear his voice in my head narrating every word, and that resonated with me so much more than a pen on paper could do on its own.

Enough of the sappy words, though. Your constant interest in my travels when I was your age always made me happy, and kept my fire lit, even after losing Nana. I knew I always wanted to help you create the same kinds of memories I did, but I didn’t know when I could lend that hand exactly. Not until a few years ago when you came out. When that curiosity and desire to grow began to disappear, I knew I needed to start planning. I knew you needed a few things you needed to worry less about in order to make room for that curiosity to bloom again.

When you were born, I immediately started saving. The account’s intention was to help with college if you chose to walk that path. It was helpful you were the only grandkid, of course, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t have to fret too much about finance when it came to education. As you got older, I realized that maybe you didn’t intend to go any further than high school. That instead, you’d want to expand your mind a different way, and that intrigued me. But still, I saved. Whatever you planned on doing, I wanted you to do it without hesitation or ties holding you back.

I know that little Honda you got from your mother doesn’t have much left on the loan. But I also know that if you wanted to drive away after graduation, that last bit of money would hold you back, especially with the car not being under your name. The day you read this letter your car loan doesn’t exist anymore. The title is being sent to your mom, and I’ve asked that she hand it over to you. You can either keep it or sell it. That’s your choice. On this day too, there is a deposit being transferred into your account. I know you don’t enjoy your job and that you just had it to pay off that loan. If you feel you need to, quit. Don’t think about it. The money going into your account is yours to spend. If you choose college, okay. If not, okay.

I looked up from the paper at that point, pulling out my phone and loading my bank account. My breath caught in my throat and I felt my face get hot. I hadn’t ever seen an amount like that before, and I wouldn’t have believed it had he not written to me. I turned to the words once more.

$20,000 is a lot to handle, I know. You deserve to follow the path you want to, not one that someone pushes you down. On the shelf by your door should be three little, black books. One is filled with my words and photos from my travels and adventures. Feel free to get lost in its pages. This letter holds the space of the last page. The second is yours to fill. With whatever you get up to in your life. All I ask is you pass the third down to someone who needs it.

You will always be the light in my life, and I can’t wait for the moment I can hug you once again. Just make sure to bring your book with you so I can share in your adventures.

Love, Pap

Sure enough, when I looked up from the letter, through my tear-soaked lashes I saw three little, black books taking up a corner on my shelf. I caught myself smiling in their direction. After a few moments of getting my breathing under as much control as I could, I folded the letter back into its triangle shape and put it into my back pocket. Without hesitation, as instructed, I pulled up flights to Rome that were still open on the farthest tab back. Rome had always been a travel wish of mine, knowing Pap visited there first and always told me how he wanted to go back.

I knew I couldn’t take him back, but I hoped taking his travel journal with me would be good enough.