Let bygones be bygones June 17, 1985

 

Dear Louise:

 I came out to see you yesterday and stayed until this morning, looking to see if I could pick up some clue as where you’ve gotten to.

It’s almost like the old days, me searching that neck of the woods in vain, looking in one place only to discover later you ended up some place else.

I might have passed you a million times and not known it. I even went to the old neighborhood and found only the remains of the Pork Store where you once worked. The man in the fish store next to it shrugged and said the store had gone out of business four weeks ago, just about the time we had all our problems with the court, and when you got burned out of your apartment.

I even went to the old camp ground, and slept just down the road in my car, hoping you might pass by, and I might spot you.

I get the feeling I’ve been disposed just as I was in 78 when you headed west. You always presumed the worst about my intentions, then and apparently now.

You told me on the phone that I sent you money only whenever I damn chose.

This is true. I sent money when I thought about it, and about three times as often as you thought to write me.

You seem to think I don’t deserve to have contact with my daughter, and that because my life has gone a little sour with my breakup with Fran and seeing my friend, Mary Ann moved away, I don’t deserve to hear from you about what’s going on in my daughter’s life.

I sent money when I thought I could afford to, which was more often than you seem to think.

This thing with the court has put a wedge between us almost as serious as the one five years ago when the court awarded me visitation rights and you moved three thousand miles away so I couldn’t.

I’ve cried on Mary Ann’s shoulder so many times, agonizing over all this, I can’t count.

Fortunately, I care about both of you too much to let all this get in the way. But I’m scared to death you will take off again like you did last time, and it will be more than five years before I see the two of you again.

I’m not perfect, I never said I was.  But I’m not the villain you make me out to be either.

You expect me to keep sending you checks, even when you deny me the right to see my daughter, and that’s not fair.

When you first asked for a divorce back in 1974, I feared you would take off and I would never see my daughter again – something that proved true when you finally got the divorce in 1978. Now, the only thing keeping you from doing it again are the payments I’m making to you and to pay for your welfare. But you’ve evasive and I’m still missing out on important moments in my daughter’s life.

I remember the visit I paid you back in 1974 with Garrick and Hank, and how upset you got when we had to leave and Ruby – only three then – started crying, saying, “Daddy, don’t go!”

That may well have been the most painful moment in my whole life.

Now, I’m leaving it up to you to let bygones be bygones so that we can pick up the pieces of our lives and try to rebuild everything into something more positive.

Let me know.

 

Yours always,

Al Sullivan

 

 1985 Menu


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