Page 36 of Clashing Moon

For my fifteenth birthday, the card showed a misty forest path leading to a warm glow in the distance, like a sunrise or the end of a journey. The front read simply, “Thinking of You on Your Special Day.”

Inside, her handwriting was as neat and careful as ever.

My dearest Arabella, happy birthday. I’m writing this on a quiet morning, watching the sunrise, thinking of all the moments I wish we could share. I hope this year is full of joy and that you’re surrounded by people who love you.

So much time has passed. So many years that we’ve had to live apart, and yet I carry hope with me every day. Hope that one day we’ll have the chance to know each other again, to make up for all the lost moments. I’ll always be here, waiting, whenever that day comes.

You are and always will be my heart. I love you.

Mom

For my sixteenth birthday, the card was simple, with a soft image of clouds parting to reveal a glowing sunrise. The words on the front read, “For a Beautiful Young Woman on Her Special Day.”

My Dearest Arabella,

Happy sixteenth birthday! Today, I want to share the story of the night you were born, a memory I’ve held close to my heart ever since.

It was a stormy, wild night—the kind where the wind howls and the rain feels like it’s battering down from every side. I remember holding on to the armrest as we drove through that storm, watching the lightning flash across the sky and feeling both terrified and excited, knowing I would meet you soon.

We barely made it to the hospital. Your father cursed the entire ride into town, and I remember thinking—I hope the baby can’t hear his harsh tone. The roads were nearly flooded, and for a while, I worried the doctor wouldn’t make it in time. Your father left me there to drink at the bar, but I had a wonderful nurse who stayed with me. Most fathers during that time were with their wives, but your father was not that kind. But you, my beautiful baby girl, arrived with a strength and certainty all your own that night at 9:17. At 8 pounds, 3 ounces, and 21 inches long, you seemed like a miracle in my arms. You had long, thick lashes and a shock of dark hair, the softest I’d ever felt, framing a face so peaceful and sweet it took my breath away. I’d heard before that the moment you look into your baby’s eyes, you fall madly in love. That was certainly true for me. From that day on, you were my whole heart.

The storm raged on outside, but in that room, holding you, I understood my purpose for the first time. To be your mother. I promised I would always love you fiercely, no matter what came our way. But I let you down. I let a drug become my life when it should have been you.

I’ll never forgive myself for losing you. I’ll never stop hoping that someday I’ll see you again.

I hope this story brings you a little closer to me, wherever you are, and that you know how deeply I cherish the memory of that night.

Each year on your birthday, I buy myself a chocolate cupcake and light a candle, saying a prayer for my baby girl. Wherever you are or whatever you’re doing, I ask God to watch over you.

With all my love, now and forever,

Mom

The card for my seventeenth birthday was understated, with an illustration of a single blooming flower against a soft blue background. The text on the front read, “Happy Birthday to My Daughter.”

Inside, my mother’s handwriting was carefully composed, as if she’d thought over each word before setting it to paper.

Dearest Arabella,

Happy, happy birthday! Seventeen—another year closer to adulthood. I think about you every day, wondering who you’ve become, hoping you’re safe and happy.

This year, I want to tell you the story of how I met your father and what happened between us. I have a feeling he won’t have shared it with you, so here goes.

We met when I was still in high school. I was sixteen, a shy girl from a strict, religious family. I loved school. I’d been chosen for the lead in our high school play, and it was as if I’d found my calling. Your father saw me in that play and pursued me, even though he was ten years older than me. As you’re aware, he was the son of a local ranch family that went back generations. He was handsome and brooding, and I remember thinking he was the most intriguing person I’d ever met. Looking back, he had no business courting a teenage girl,but that’s the sordid truth. No one in my life protected me from him. I thought I was madly in love with him, but I know now it was only infatuation and my need for love. My family was steady but cold, and I yearned for love. When he paid attention to me, it felt like being seen for the first time. After a lot of therapy, I realize that he was basically a predator, and despite my parents’ so-called Christian beliefs, no one bothered to help me.

I had a scholarship to college and wanted to study acting, hoping someday to move to New York City and try to have a career in the theater. But when I found out I was pregnant with you, my life changed overnight. When I told your father, he insisted we get married right away. I’d just turned eighteen, so it was legal. We went to the courthouse, and it was done.

As you might imagine, my family did not take the news well. They were strict and had high expectations. When I told them I was married and pregnant, they were enraged and beyond disappointed. They told me they never wanted to see me again. My mother was the hardest to lose. She never spoke to me again, despite my attempts to reconcile.

To make matters worse, she passed away when you were only a year old. It’s one of the deepest sorrows of my life that she never got to meet you. I wish she could have seen how precious you were, how much light you brought into the world.

In those early years, I realized that your father didn’t want me to have anyone else in my life. He liked me isolated, dependent only on him. It was easier that way, easier to keep me close, easier to keep control. And slowly, over time, I lost my voice, my freedom, until I felt like I didn’t know myself anymore. He used more than just his fists to keep me under. His words wounded me in ways that never healed.

I tell you this not to hurt you or to speak ill of him but because I want you to know where you come from. I want youto understand that you have a strength in you that is all your own. I hope you can use that strength to live freely, make your own choices, and follow the dreams that are yours alone.

I hope you’re surrounded by love on your birthday, doing something you enjoy.

With all my love, now and always,

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