Letter to Daughter 2 (aka A2-D2)
This is the rough (digital) equivalent of a letter in the bottle.
My guess of the odds of a real ocean-going letter in a bottle, floating right into the hands of the person to whom it is addressed, are beyond one billionth million percent. But there’s no cost in trying.
So, here it is.
Dear A2-D2, you’ve been silent for the longest time for reasons that remain obscure—or, rather, known only to the narrow Lucifer’s Circle that put together the 2019 ploy.
I must say I was caught by complete surprise when you, too, pushed the plunger with such aplomb (I confess I wasn’t surprised by Mom and your sister doing the same) and the only reason I agreed to disastrously interrupt my life, and throw my dream of dreams down the sewer (and abandon both the puppies and the kitties), was to avoid an almost certain meltdown of both you and your sibling.
What led you to go along with that grimy backhand trick remains a mystery (and you know how it was put together). I confess I noticed very little in your behavior, in the days and weeks leading up to the proverbial stab in the back, that would have rung an alarm bell as to what was in store. Yes, you did have your (unavoidable) moods and, yes, the ups and downs…. but you were the very last person I’d expect to see acting like you did.
And then, I got a glimpse of you during the very last Skype session we had on that accursed cold December ’19 evening. I wish I could have had a way to snap a photo of you that day; you looked genuinely upset, even scared, wearing the grey face I know very well and always hoped never to see again.
That was the face of a person under pressure, which was, almost certainly, imposed.
Ever since those dark days, you slid into silence whose cause remains a mystery.
I’m left with the (near) certainty that you find me guilty of imposing on you untold and unpardonable miseries. I continue to scour the past trying to find causes of your present silence, but I always come up with nothing that effectively explains the riddle (and I won’t repeat here the usual "someday, you'll see things my way” etc., etc., because you are way beyond such trivialities).
Αλλά πάντα παραμένει το μυστήριο: ΤΙ μπήκε μέσα σου και στάλαξε αυτήν πλήρη απόρριψη του “Dad?”
Τι συνέβη στην κόρη που κάθε πρωί, πριν ξεκινήσουμε για τις βόλτες, ρωτούσε “how do I look, captain?”
Τι συνέβη στην «Α» που είχε σοβαρές existential questions, τις οποίες «έριχνε στο τραπέζι» στην διάρκεια των ατελείωτων εκείνων καθημερινών οδικών περιηγήσεων;
Τι μπήκε στο μυαλό ενός παιδιού με ασυνήθιστη για την ηλικία του πνευματική και δημιουργική ενάργεια;
Τι έπαθε η κόρη που έκανε τις πλέον εύστοχες παρατηρήσεις για το πώς καλλιεργείται η οικογενειακή συνοχή;
Γιατί έξαφνα ξέχασε την εμπιστοσύνη που είχε στις εξηγήσεις του Dad?
If I may say so, these are all legitimate and honest questions that should elicit answers.
Αν όμως φυσικά θεωρείς ότι η παρούσα κατάσταση είναι δικαιολογημένη (για λόγους που αρνείσαι να κατονομάσεις) τι να πω;
Το μόνο που θέλω να προσθέσω δεν είναι εκείνα τα αιώνια «θα το μετανιώσεις» κλπ, κλπ … αλλά, μάλλον, η προτροπή να σκεφθείς τι μπορεί να φέρει ένα αύριο που ούτε και συ, η πραγματικά προικισμένη, και σχεδόν τέλεια, story teller, μπορεί να φανταστεί.
Και επί τη ευκαιρία υπενθύμισε και στην Mom ότι δεν είμουν, και ποτέ δεν θα γίνω, «εκκρεμότητα».
PS: I beg the pardon of readers, who do not speak Greek, for implementing this English-Greek blend that mimics the similar established practice of Indians constantly mixing Hindi, plus other local languages, with injections of English.