Evergreen Everleigh - The Wattys 2020

Chapter Forty-Five - Hush Little Baby

(I once read that white and red roses symbolises fatherhood. White for a father that has passed, red for a father who is alive. To mark this chapter, I have chosen white roses for the father who has not been in Everleigh/Poppy's life for a long time. After all, sometimes loss isn't just about death.)

Chapter Forty-Five

Hush Little Baby

I don't know how to address this letter. Do I call you Father? I am out of practice with all of the conscious ways of being the daughter of a father. I guess our dynamic duo broke up a long time ago, so I'm just not going to bother addressing this letter. To be frank, I doubt Wister will even post this. Letter writing is just another therapeutic exercise, that might be more effective if I didn't feel as though I was writing to a ghost. As you have flitted from country to country, I have lost so much of myself. Perhaps all of the key bits of who I would have become, gone whilst I was still a child. I'm not trying to sound bitter, even though I am.  

The biggest change in me since we last saw each other is undeniable. I am no longer a child. Was my handwriting a giveaway? My birthday is coming up soon and it may be the first in many years that will be spent with friends. 

When I thought of my birthday, my mind strayed to Henry and Harmony. For the last few years, we've begun our birthdays by measuring our heights against the doorframe of Mother's room. For the last few years, I have been somewhat stunted. Unsurprising, I suppose. 

Anyway, when I thought of Henry and Harmony, a very specific memory came into my mind. That's been happening a lot lately as I have been feeding my body, I've also been feeding my mind. Or at least that's what my recovery journal tells me. 

The twins were only four or five months old and going through a growth spurt. It completely messed with their sleeping patterns and they were up half the night. As always, I woke up to the sound of their crying in the middle of the night. What I also know now is that Mother was crying too, suffering from postpartum depression. I was ten-years-old and already counting how many hours I could go without eating anything. 

I decided to go downstairs for some water but stopped halfway down the stairs. The small lamp in the corner was the only light in the room, but I saw you passing the living room with the twins in your arms, heads resting on your shoulders. That's when I heard you singing. 

Hush, little baby don't say a word

Papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird

And if that mocking bird don't sing

Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring

And if that diamond ring is brass

Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass

I sat on the step and just watched the three of you. The twins lulling back to sleep, you singing with your hair all fluffy and glasses askew. You placed the room for two hours. I know this because I sat on the step for two hours, watching you pass the clock on the mantle over and over again. Still, I couldn't look away. 

I've learned a lot here at Freesia Fields. A lot of it has nothing to do with recovery and everything to do with empathy for the pain of others. And now, I realise that that includes me too. I know the pain I felt that night, watching you soothe the twins. I understand myself more clearly now. The pain I feel now in our relationship is the same pain I felt that night. 

I want to be your little baby, soothed by you. Instead, I am alone in a snowstorm, starving for love in so many ways. All the same, I do not blame you. I have learned that life for anyone just means making decisions that sometimes don't work out. For you, I might be one of those decisions. 

It matters very little anyway. After all, I'm learning how to soothe myself now. 

With fond affection, 

Your daughter. 

A/N: 

Hello friends, 

Firstly, I am sorry about the delayed upload! Work and college got a little hectic this week and I got in over my head. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this shorter chapter and gives a mild insight into Everleigh's relationship with her father! 

Until next week, 

Jens x