The Last Blue Envelope

The letter was sitting on the kitchen counter in a blue envelope and sealed. It was sitting there like it had been sent from another lifetime. Mara stared at it. The handwriting had not changed, the slanted cursive, the deliberately careful loops and her name out the way only he spelled it, Maribel.

The kettle she had placed on the stove began to whistle and eventually sounded like a long scream trying to get her attention. But, she let it scream. Her eyes were fixed on the letter in the blue envelope on the counter. Her fingers started to shake at her sides. She didn’t want to touch it. She didn’t want to read it. But she would. She knew she would eventually.

She turned off the fire underneath the kettle and poured the water into her old cracked mug with the sunflowers on it. She carried her tea, still seeping, into the living room and looked out of the window. Her neighborhood in Berkeley was quiet this time of the year. Most of her neighbors were on summer vacation. The kid who lived across the street was outside skateboarding trying to do a flip kick. She watched him fall, get up and fall again and get back up. The resilience of this kid she envied.

The envelope was still there on the counter untouched. She walked to the couch and sat down, then she got back up and walked back to the kitchen. Eventually with trembling hands she finally opened it.

Maribel,

I don’t expect you to forgive me. I would not blame you if you never wrote back or spoke to me ever again. But I have been carrying around this weight for over a decade and I think that you maybe too. There are many things that I should have said that night. Many things I should have done differently. I am not writing to make excuses for myself. I am writing to tell the truth. The truth I should have said years ago. My truth. I hope that you believe me.

Do you remember how the sky looked that night of the accident? I do. It looked menacing and cruel.

She stopped reading. Her heart was pounding. That night was burned into her memory. The hard rain that night. The streets were slippery and Jacob was behind the wheel. Her sister, Anna, was sitting in the back seat with her earbuds firmly stuck in her ears and her cell phone in her hand humming along off-key to some song.

Mara had been arguing with Jacob over something dumb. Something that was not worth remembering. And then the bright, blinding headlights and the screeching of the tires. The shattering of glass and then silence. Jacob had walked away from the accident with a few broken ribs and a large deep gash over his right eye. Anna on the other hand, would never walk again. Mara survived with a broken arm.

Mara never forgave him. She looked at the letter. Her tea was now cold. She read on.

I’ve written to you hundreds of times over the years and most of those letters were burned or thrown away but this one I think you need to read. Or maybe I just need to say it, write it.

The night of the accident when I came to pick you and Anna up from your friend’s house you asked if I had been drinking. You knew that I had gone to pick up James from the bar, my best friend who was working there. I told you that I had not but I lied. While I was waiting for James I had two beers. I thought that I could handle it. I dropped James off and I was tired and starting to feel the effects of the beer. I was not drunk, just buzzed. I should have never driven anyone anywhere. I was always the responsible one, at least that is what you always told me. You had the right to be mad when I told you. You had the right to tell me to pull the car over but it was too late. The accident happened.

After the crash, I wanted to go to the hospital to be with you and Anna. I wanted to be there more than anything in the world. But, your father told me not to come. He told me that I had done enough. And you never returned my calls. So I left.

I moved to another state. I wanted to get as far away from the accident as I could. I was running with nowhere to run actually. I got a job painting houses and eventually opened my own business. I went to therapy. I know I told you that I was going to go to therapy before we broke up for good, before the accident. I lied. I never made the appointment. But this time I went to therapy for myself. I really wanted help. I also did it for you and for Anna in a way. I wanted to fix myself. I wanted to fix what was broken in myself.

Mara put her hand to her mouth. Tears started to stream down her face unexpectedly. This time they were not angry tears she used to cry. They weren’t the tears she cried herself to sleep right after the accident and for months. She had spent the better part of the last ten years hating Jacob. Hating him was easier than the thought of the man she used to love. She continued reading.

I heard that Anna is in college again getting her masters in art therapy. I heard that she is teaching now too. She always had a way of listening to people and really seeing them from the inside out. I hope that she is still painting her masterpieces. I hope that she has forgiven me. I am not asking for her to forgive me. I am asking if you would communicate with me. Only once if you choose. You can tell me to go to hell if you want. At least I know that you have read this. I know that it is selfish of me to want anything from you. I may be asking too much. I understand if I never hear from you again. But I miss you and love you always.

Jacob

She folded the letter and placed it on the coffee table. Her hand hovered over the table for a few seconds.Than she picked up her phone.

She had not talked to Anna in over a week. They usually talked two or three times per week. This time she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say to her.

Anna answered the phone in two rings.

“Hey.” She said, “How are you doing?” Her voice was warm and bubbly as usual.

Mara almost lied. But she didn’t.

“I got a letter from Jacob.”

There was a pause.

“Oh.” Anna finally said.

“He said he is sorry.”

“Do you believe him?”

Another pause

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Anna exhaled.

“You know that I have forgiven him right? I forgave him years ago.”

Mara blinked her eyes rapidly as she always did when she got that sort of surprising news.

“It didn’t come all at once. It took years. I didn’t want to live with the bitterness growing inside me like a weed anymore. I needed to find a way to let it go. I went to therapy for a long time. I am still in therapy.

“So you forgave him for everything?”

“Yes, I did forgive him but not for him, not for you, not for anyone but myself and my peace of mind. I forgave myself for getting in the car after he told you he had been drinking. I forgave myself for not wearing my seat belt and I forgave myself for everything that followed.”

Mara was quiet. The pain she felt inside that she had pushed down surfaced again like a scab that was being picked without her realizing it.

Anna continued. “You don’t have to forgive him. I know that is what he asked for. You don’t have to forgive him today or tomorrow or ever if you don’t want to. But, you do have to figure out how you want to live. You have to decide if you want to live in that cage of the past or move on to whatever the future looks like for you.”

Mara nodded even though her sister could not see it.

“Thank you. You know for a little sister you sure are wise.” Mara tried to laugh.

“I learned from the best Mara, if you do decide to write him back don’t sugar coat anything. You tell him exactly how you feel and you say what you need to say and however you want to say it. I will call you tomorrow.”

That night Mara stayed awake late. She took a walk to the pier near her house, where the lampposts cast pools of light on the water. She stuffed her hands in her pockets of her jeans and walked past the bench where she and Jacob used to sit sometimes. They would talk. They were happy back then, the summer before the accident. Or at least she thought that they were happy.

Forgiveness, she thought, was it the key to her sense of peace? Was it like the seed that she planted in the garden and then fertilized soil so it would bloom? She didn’t know.

When she got home she took out some paper and a pen and walked to her desk. She began to write.

Jacob,

You were right. I’ve been carrying around the same weight. I hated how you got to walk away from the accident with only a few broken ribs and a cut over your eye while Anna would never be able to walk again. I hated that you were not there when I needed you the most. But more than that I hated that I still loved and missed you.

Reading your letter did not fix anything that was broken between us. But it did something else that I didn’t expect. It made me feel less alone in remembering the accident. It made me feel closer to my sister.

I am not ready to forgive you. Not yet. But, I am ready to begin to try.

Mara

She folded the letter and put it in a blue envelope and wrote his name and address on it. She was not ready to mail it. Not yet but it was a start. And sometimes the bravest thing a person can do is start to move forward even if it is in baby steps.