Why I shouldn't buy stamps.

I bought stamps the other day. Not just a couple, but a whole freaking book. When I have stamps in my house I for some reason feel the need to send things out, or write letters. While writing letters can be fun, when you have as many estranged family members as I do, it's like gambling.


I haven't spoken to my Grandmother in over 3 years. And we were barely talking then. My Father has been dead for almost 10 years, and when he died, most of our family did with him. No, not literally, but might as well have. You would think that they would have wanted to be there for us during our difficult time, instead, they all decided that we were guilty of things that didn't happen, or weren't in our control. I was 13 when my Father died, and my Brother was only 19. We were children. We were sad and broken. We needed them.


There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of them. Think of the kind of Great Grandparents they would be to my children, think of the Great Uncles they could have had. I always wonder about the kind of stories they would tell my children about my Dad. I'm a sentimental idiot. I constantly want to try to make amends and bring our broken family back together. It kills me to see what has happened to it. So, when I bought stamps, I decided to write my Nana. I decided to tell her how I feel, and try to repair what has broken. I did what I always do, and I put my heart on the line.


It could go well, and we could start talking again, we could be the family we really are. I'll do my best to pretend I didn't hold it against her for years, and she will try to put everything in the past and love me anyway. It could end up good, or even great. However, there's also a good possibility that it could end badly. So badly that things are never repairable. I can be rejected again and feel that horrible pain. I could have my heart ripped from chest again. It could feel like losing my Dad all over again.


I want my children to know them. I want my children to know who my Father was, in ways that I can't describe to them. I want them to have a complete family unlike my very broken one. I don't want them to know even a little bit of what this abandonment feels like. I want them to know all the love in the world and never have to deal with the pain and the hand that my brother and I have been dealt. I want things to be perfect for them.


So here I am, staring at a letter with a stamp, ready to send. I have a lighter on one side, and my coat on the other. I put my coat on and curse myself the entire walk to the mailbox. I rolled the dice.


I shouldn't have bought stamps.