To: MY SON
Dear Connor,
They say leaving is the hardest part, but have they ever tried coming back? Leaving was easy..
You know me, but you don't know who I am. Tomorrow, I start work in Coventry. I've been wanting to tell you everything, the past two years I've been here. I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell your mother. Tell her I'm sorry. You won't understand any of this now, and maybe you won't keep it until you're older, but I have to do something. I have to say something before you forget who I am.
Connor, I met your mom through your Aunt Linda. She dated my roommate first year of college in PC. She told me I should meet your mom. This was before you were born. I shouldn't have said yes, Connor. I shouldn't have started dating her. I shouldn't have gotten myself into a relationship. That was my first mistake. A couple years later, she told me she was pregnant. We were going to have a son, and I asked if it was mine. She started to cry, ran out of the room, and I didn't get up to try to calm her. I didn't do anything. I didn't feel anything. I was making so many mistakes. The next thing I knew, I dropped out and got a job here in Lincoln. Before your mom moved here, I transferred to Bristol and was there for a few years.
I read all the papers Connor. I checked all the births, the deaths, everything. I wanted to know everything about people. I had to connect in some way. I had nothing of my own. Then, on February 21, I found a name I recognized. A Miss Angela Curry, giving birth to a Connor Nicholas on February 19 2001, coming in at 6 lbs 8 oz and 19 inches. This was in the Lincoln paper. Your mom got a place with your Aunt, her sister, and they were going to raise you. I see your Aunt sometimes, when I'm walking away, but I don't think she sees me. She tries, though. To find someone - something - never thinking it could be me. She's a good Aunt, Connor. A better father than I ever was. About twenty-six months ago, I was asked to come work in Lincoln again. I didn't have a choice. I was afraid I'd have to face you. Face your family. The first three months, I didn't. Then that guy quit, and I had a new route. Your route. I would be seeing you daily for the next two years and you wouldn't know. I would. From the first day, I saw my eyes in you. My jaw line. Your mother's lips. Her ears. Her hair color. My hair texture.
I often wondered if your mom wonders about me, or thinks about me at all, and when I saw you.. I got an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. How could she not think of me seeing you? You are a miniature me. The perfect hybrid of your mother and I. My first week, I felt sick. I didn't want to see you. I didn't want to see her. I didn't want to see us.
I don't know if your mom ever finished school, but I didn't. Once I left, Connor, I lost everything. I suppose you couldn't say I lost it - it was mostly my own doing. I wanted to leave. I wanted to escape. A new state. A new coast. A new country. Something. But I couldn't bring myself to leave my son. My unborn son that would never know me. So I stuck around, with nothing, and I still can't figure out why. The truth is, you know the mailman, but you don't know your father. You talk to the mailman daily, but you've never talked to your father. Did you ever know that the mailman is supposed to be your father?
It's been about eight years since I've started making mistakes. Since I met your mother. And here I am, leaving again. Giving you this letter. Still making mistakes. I never meant to hurt your mom, Connor. I never meant for you to grow up without me. Just.. a son at age 20 wasn't part of my plan. I was going to school to be a civil engineer. I was a smart kid, but I didn't make smart decisions. I wanted to know you Connor. I wanted a lot of things and now I have none. If leaving is loving, I love you just as much as I loved your mother. I see so much of me in you. I'm sure you don't want to hear anything from your dad, but will you listen to your mailman? Be good to her, Connor. Stay in school, have a family of your own. Don't make the same mistakes that I did. I'm sorry to have been back in your life only to leave again. I used to be a good person, Connor. I really was. All I know how to do now is leave. So I mean this with all the love you're willing to accept; I hope I never get to see you or hurt you again. Goodbye Connor, and for your sake, I hope your new mailman is as friendly and willing to hear about your day as I was.
-Thomas Long; the mailman
Dear Connor,
They say leaving is the hardest part, but have they ever tried coming back? Leaving was easy..
You know me, but you don't know who I am. Tomorrow, I start work in Coventry. I've been wanting to tell you everything, the past two years I've been here. I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell your mother. Tell her I'm sorry. You won't understand any of this now, and maybe you won't keep it until you're older, but I have to do something. I have to say something before you forget who I am.
Connor, I met your mom through your Aunt Linda. She dated my roommate first year of college in PC. She told me I should meet your mom. This was before you were born. I shouldn't have said yes, Connor. I shouldn't have started dating her. I shouldn't have gotten myself into a relationship. That was my first mistake. A couple years later, she told me she was pregnant. We were going to have a son, and I asked if it was mine. She started to cry, ran out of the room, and I didn't get up to try to calm her. I didn't do anything. I didn't feel anything. I was making so many mistakes. The next thing I knew, I dropped out and got a job here in Lincoln. Before your mom moved here, I transferred to Bristol and was there for a few years.
I read all the papers Connor. I checked all the births, the deaths, everything. I wanted to know everything about people. I had to connect in some way. I had nothing of my own. Then, on February 21, I found a name I recognized. A Miss Angela Curry, giving birth to a Connor Nicholas on February 19 2001, coming in at 6 lbs 8 oz and 19 inches. This was in the Lincoln paper. Your mom got a place with your Aunt, her sister, and they were going to raise you. I see your Aunt sometimes, when I'm walking away, but I don't think she sees me. She tries, though. To find someone - something - never thinking it could be me. She's a good Aunt, Connor. A better father than I ever was. About twenty-six months ago, I was asked to come work in Lincoln again. I didn't have a choice. I was afraid I'd have to face you. Face your family. The first three months, I didn't. Then that guy quit, and I had a new route. Your route. I would be seeing you daily for the next two years and you wouldn't know. I would. From the first day, I saw my eyes in you. My jaw line. Your mother's lips. Her ears. Her hair color. My hair texture.
I often wondered if your mom wonders about me, or thinks about me at all, and when I saw you.. I got an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. How could she not think of me seeing you? You are a miniature me. The perfect hybrid of your mother and I. My first week, I felt sick. I didn't want to see you. I didn't want to see her. I didn't want to see us.
I don't know if your mom ever finished school, but I didn't. Once I left, Connor, I lost everything. I suppose you couldn't say I lost it - it was mostly my own doing. I wanted to leave. I wanted to escape. A new state. A new coast. A new country. Something. But I couldn't bring myself to leave my son. My unborn son that would never know me. So I stuck around, with nothing, and I still can't figure out why. The truth is, you know the mailman, but you don't know your father. You talk to the mailman daily, but you've never talked to your father. Did you ever know that the mailman is supposed to be your father?
It's been about eight years since I've started making mistakes. Since I met your mother. And here I am, leaving again. Giving you this letter. Still making mistakes. I never meant to hurt your mom, Connor. I never meant for you to grow up without me. Just.. a son at age 20 wasn't part of my plan. I was going to school to be a civil engineer. I was a smart kid, but I didn't make smart decisions. I wanted to know you Connor. I wanted a lot of things and now I have none. If leaving is loving, I love you just as much as I loved your mother. I see so much of me in you. I'm sure you don't want to hear anything from your dad, but will you listen to your mailman? Be good to her, Connor. Stay in school, have a family of your own. Don't make the same mistakes that I did. I'm sorry to have been back in your life only to leave again. I used to be a good person, Connor. I really was. All I know how to do now is leave. So I mean this with all the love you're willing to accept; I hope I never get to see you or hurt you again. Goodbye Connor, and for your sake, I hope your new mailman is as friendly and willing to hear about your day as I was.
-Thomas Long; the mailman
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