"I Remember When..."
Dear Momma,
It's been a while since we've spoken, hasn't it? I've been so busy with my new job that I haven't found the time to talk to you. I've been sending you letters, but I'm never sure if you've gotten to them. Not that it's going to keep me from continuing to try. Besides, this one's something I've been meaning to get off of my chest a while. I couldn't as a little filly, but now that I'm older and a bit more filled out in the head, I don't have to worry about not being taken seriously when I say what I say. Here's my prayers to hoping you haven't gotten tired of these yet.
I remember when you were talking to me about when I was born. You got the chance to hold me close to you after all that labor was finished. Dad was so proud of you for pulling through for all of us, eager that he was actually going to be a father to a child. Heck, even the nurses were happy for us, though I personally think it was more because of the fact that they didn't have to deal with such a stressful task of helping someone give birth. You said that when you looked into my eyes, you knew that I would be the best thing that ever happened to you. I look back on that, and I can't help but laugh and smile. I don't think you could've ever told me a better thing.
Back then, I was just some kid with hyperactivity that would've given Pinkie a run for her money and an innocence that would've made other ponies still think I was a newborn. I still remember the time when I was running around Ponyville when I happened to notice these two stallions looking at a mare that happened to be passing by. They were muttering to each other about her, saying some things about her appearance. Not in the "oh, she's real ugly" kind of way, but the "oh, she's real pretty" kind of way. I won't go into detail about what they said, because I know you'd complain. But after taking in what I could, I had approached Dad with the question of "What does sticking a bratwurst in somepony's rump roast mean?" I think I know why he started to act so weird around me and you whenever we were nearby for that week.
That was when we all were a family. We'd go out for a walk through the town, have a chat with other townsfolk here and there as we moved through the neighborhood. We'd have picnics just for the sake of sitting outside and basking in the warmth of the good old Celestia-blessed sun. You would even play the occasional children's games with me such as hide-and-seek, tag, jump-rope and whatnot, not caring about how weird adults would look doing such things. Sure, we'd get on each other's nerves now and again, but in the end, we'd all be laughing and smiling and having a good time. Even so, you made sure to raise me, to teach me, and to help me grow into the mare I am now. I will never, ever forget what either of you've done for me, and I'm only sorry that I don't have the right words to express how grateful I am to have such great parents.
Then, just like that, Dad was gone. There was no warning, and no farewell. I was only a pre-teen, and I had to act as your brace as you were crying on my shoulders. It didn't keep me from crying, too. I mean, how are you supposed to feel after one of your loving parents was just taken away from you, just like that? His death would mark the end of our good times and the beginning of our bad ones. My happy-go-lucky attitude had suffered a huge dent, and although I tried to continue like I always had, it just wasn't the same. Even to this day, I still have no idea how to fill the gap that he left behind. But then again, you didn't, either. You tried, tried to drown your sorrows in the finest wines and the heaviest alcoholic drinks that Ponyville's bars had to offer. You ended up starting your own business involving your indulgences, giving yourself the unofficial reputation of both the town's best winemaker and drunk. To everypony else, it would've seemed like you had just gotten into a new groove. But only I knew what you were really doing.
You tried to look out for me, tried to bring back the old times. But the only thing you could really do anymore was ask for help for things you couldn't handle because of your alcoholic addiction. It was I who had to clean up around the house, take out the trash, and care for you whenever you fell victim to your stupors. It was I who had to stop you from getting too rowdy with friends because you couldn't control yourself. As a result, I had to grow up too early for my age and eventually pulled away from the child I once was. When I think about it, I can't help but feel a sort of bitterness towards you and even Dad for leaving us like this in the first place. But I also know that none of it was your fault, and I could never hate you for what you couldn't do.
But I still can't help but wonder. Was it ever too late to change? Maybe I could've said something better so that I could have kept you from drinking. Maybe Colgate could've said something - she was probably the best friend you had out of the bunch. She knew you just as much as I did... maybe even more so than I did, and even she had no idea what to do. But if I had chosen my words a bit more carefully, if I had gotten over myself a little bit quicker, then maybe this wouldn't have happened. By now, it's really too late to do anything. The only thing I can do is write my words to you within this little piece of paper. For that, I'm sorry. I let you fall and never made a good enough effort to catch you. I hope that someday, somehow, you can find it in your heart to forgive me, your one and only daughter.
And so, this will be my final letter to you. I will rest this letter beside you and walk away for the last time, hoping that this will be the closure that we both need. Even though we're not together anymore, I hope that you're still there looking out for me as you always did. May you rest in peace.
In memory of you,
Ruby Pinch