Wouldn’t it be awesome if you could redecorate your past? How I wish I wouldn’t have thrown away three years of my life—given them to a man whose heart was black and intentions were evil. I won’t say I wish I never got pregnant, because that feels like I’d be jinxing you. You deserved life. But I deserved to keep you in my life, too.
I’ll never give up looking for you, hoping for some small clue that will reunite us, mommy and daughter, together again. You know what I do sometimes? I comb obituaries, searching for the name Jason Baxter. Is it awful to yearn for someone’s death? I suppose it is. Tati tells me to quit, that bitterness makes people old. But how can I not be bitter?
Oh, Casey, do you even remember your mommy? I think about you every single day. Sometimes I cry for you at night. Your baby blanket? I keep it folded under my pillow, unwashed because it still holds the faint scent of you.
Through the relentless motion of time, I discovered a certain momentum and attained goals far beyond any I thought within reach. The haunts of my past played a role in that, drove me into a comfortable present, at least as measured by personal success.
September 11, 2006
It’s your birthday, darling Casey. I hope wherever you are whoever you’re with is celebrating your day in a big way. I know you might never see these updates, but I decided to write them on your birthday so I’ll always remember to do them. I’ll never forget the importance of this day. Or give up on spending future birthdays with you.
Not a whole lot has changed in the past year and a half, except I did start at ASU, which added a lot of work to my already busy life. But it will be worth it in the long run. Oh, I am doing some weekend reporting at the station, which means now I have to keep in shape so I look svelte on camera. Svelte. Cool word, yeah? And whoever would have thought I’d use it in reference to myself?
Doesn’t matter. I look good enough for Phoenix, apparently. It’s weird, but I actually get come-on e-mails from viewers. Men, of course. There’s a certain satisfaction that comes from that. Once I was pretty watery about my sexual identity, and even now I can’t say I’m not attracted to good-looking men.
Who knows? Had I been attracted to the right man, rather than the handful I dated (especially your father), maybe I’d be married to one, and have a passel of kids to care for. I loved being a mommy. Don’t know what kind of mother I’d have made. Some people believe ambition is a bad thing for a woman to own. I don’t know what to think. All I know is Tati is more than enough “partner” for me. I just wish you were here, too.
September 11, 2007
Happy birthday, nine-year-old. You must be getting so big. Are you tall? I never mentioned it, and you surely can’t remember this, but your mommy (that’s me!) is five foot eleven. That’s pretty tall. Tati calls me Everest when she wants to tease me, though that’s kind of a stretch. Ha. Get it?
I’ve got one more year to finish up my communications degree. Tati is ahead of me. She got her criminal justice degree last year and is taking special coursework to become a credentialed victims’ advocate. She wants to help people, and she says I inspired that desire. She watched me suffer because I lost you. Can you imagine how many people like me there are in the world?
It might be hard to believe, but I still dream about you. My favorite is the Christmas dream. We’re decorating the tree and I’m singing that silly song I made up: Eggnog and beer make for too much good cheer, but you can bet the sleigh knows the way, so Santa please don’t sweat it. Dumb, I know, but you’re only three, frozen there in time, and you laugh and laugh, even if you only understand the gist of my words. That makes me laugh, too, and I am filled with happiness. It’s a joyous Christmas.
But then the dream ends when your father walks in, pissed off, and slams the door behind him. I hate when dreams get real.
September 11, 2008
Ten years old today. I can hardly believe it’s been an entire decade since that incredible day you came into the world. I run a finger along the C-section scar faded into a silver thread below my belly button, remember the first time I held you, all plump and pink and perfect. You looked up at me, and in your eyes was recognition. You knew me! Our connection, independent of a physical cord, was complete in that moment. We’re still connected, Casey, wherever you are. Jason can’t take that away from us. Ever.
So what’s up with me? Well, your mom’s an official college graduate. Finishing school definitely freed up my schedule. Now Tati and I actually have a little of this thing called “spare time,” and we’re using it to mountain bike. I love going outside the city and cruising back roads and trails. It’s a different adventure every time we go.