//------------------------------//
// Dear Applejack 
// Story: Dear Applejack 
// by Captain of the Guard 
//------------------------------//

The day was done, and the day’s labor with it. Celestia’s sun had lowered, slowly falling below the horizon as the sky was painted in a layered cascade of reds and violets. The wood creaked under dusty horseshoes as the orange mare ascended the stairs.
Applejack tossed the ten gallon hat from her mouth onto the rack as she pushed open the creaky door with her muzzle. The first thing that caught her eye was the white piece of paper on her bed, which she had never seen before. She closed the door with a hind leg, and approached the mysterious note, opening it.

	Dear Applejack,
I’m not too good at writing, so don’t expect much from this letter. I’ll start off by saying there was never a single moment when your mother and I stopped loving you. You’re probably a bit older if you’re reading this. That is, if my ma listened to my instructions.
Your mother is at peace, my daughter, and I know that I don’t have much time left in my hourglass either. I write these letters because, despite how brave you thought I was, I could never summon the courage to say this to you. Even though you’re still young, and have a lot to learn, I know that you are everything we wanted you to be, and so, so much more. While it makes me the most proud soul in all of the earth to have known you and your brother, it breaks my heart more than anything else to know that I may never see the wonderful mare that young Applebloom will grow up to be. At least I can go out knowing that she is in good hooves. I want you to tell her about us, but don’t lie. Don’t make up stories about us being perfect ponies, that were always compassionate and loving no matter what. We weren’t, and you know that deep inside. Your mother and I were not prepared to be parents, and we never gave you or your brother what you deserved. We should have been so much better to you, and that is my only regret. You didn’t turn out to be the wonderful pony that you are now because of us. It was entirely you.
I know that what I’m about to say is very selfish, but it’s true. I’m glad that I’ll bite the dust before you do, because I could never, ever think of losing you. I’m sorry that I can’t stick around for a few more years, and I wish I could. But promise me you won’t mourn for me or your mother too much, it isn’t good for you. In time, all wounds will heal. Just keep your siblings strong, dear.
I can’t promise that I will be waiting for you, after this life. That is a promise that nopony can make. You three need to watch out for each other, because I don’t think your mother and I will be able to. But if you do find me, I can’t wait to share a drop of the pure, and have a good, long talk. If not, then let these letters be the last thing your mother and I will ever say to you. When she’s old enough, give these to Applebloom. She deserves to know everything there is to learn. Watch over her, and protect her. You and Big Macintosh will have to be her parents, and for that I apologize.
You know that pink ribbon your mother always wore? Applebloom should have it. They have the same eyes, those two. And the old hat that my father gave me, you should take it. I know it’s a family tradition to pass it from father to son, but I think Big Mac will be okay with it. You always looked better in that old thing, anyway. You can have my lasso, too. Remember the day at the rodeo, when you asked if you could have a lasso of your own? I hope mine will hold up for a while, it should still see a few years’ use.
Ah, you loved the rodeos. Just like your ma. You would cheer and cheer every time I went out there in that dusty field. Did you ever notice how I always tried to impress you? It’s funny, really. I acted childish, I know, but I always wanted your approval. Your smile was so comforting to me, and your laugh. Your beautiful laugh was so... calming. Most children seek attention from their parents, but you and I had that backwards. I guess I couldn’t stand the thought of you not loving me as much as I did you. Don’t worry, sweetie, I know that’s not true. I know you have more love in you than I ever did, and everypony who crosses paths with you is the luckiest pony in Equestria. I was the luckiest of them all, though, to be your father.
Now, there’s something I have to confess, and I want you to take a lesson from it. The reason why your mother and I weren’t the parents we should have been is because we were alcoholics. That hurts me to write, but it is the truth. I think you already figured it out, though. I know your brother did. We had a disease. A terrible disease. Don’t ever find solace in the bottle, dear, because it’s all a facade. It’ll do more harm than it could ever do help. We always fought, your mother and I, and it was because of our addictions. We still loved each other, though, and don’t ever think otherwise. Alcohol killed your ma, and now it’s eating away at me. I am sorry. I am so sorry. We tried to stop. We tried so hard, to quit, but we never could. Your mother and I always talked about being proud of one’s self, and this entire time we lied to you. You three were the only things we were proud of. The reason I could never meet your eyes when I drank, those beautiful emerald eyes, is because the shame was too much. You were the only thing that set me free from my prison, and that was a gift I can never repay. I can’t ask for your forgiveness. I have no right. The only thing I can think to say is that I love you. I will always love you.
I’m drifting into sleep, so I’ll have to continue this later. There are more letters to come, sugarcube, and eventually, you can have my journal. I want you to learn more about your mother and I, and this will be how I tell to you. I wish that the world gives you everything you deserve, and nothing more, because you deserve it all.
Pa

She was crying, muffling it behind swallows, as every thought she could possibly conjure awoke into a storm of grief. Tears streamed her cheeks, she was lost. Choking on breaths, unable to think. She wanted to scream, I love you, and restraining herself was a more difficult struggle than any she had encountered in all her years of labor. Behind her, creaking wood, and she jumped, turning around. Behind the door, the pony stopped. Applejack, despite not seeing her, knew that it was her Granny Smith. Thank you. She wiped her cheek.