Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

Sorry it’s been a while. I know, I know. I always say that. But something happened today and I wanted to tell you about it. I went to a festival. Not the Se festival, but it reminded me of it.

There was this little group of musicians playing out in the open, and everyone was dancing and laughing like nothing else in the world mattered. One of them was playing a flute, and I don’t know. Something about it took me right back to the first time you took us to the Se festival.

You remember that, right? It was just after the war ended. Gramps had died, and Mom had gotten so quiet. I was probably too young to really understand what she was going through, but I remember that. She barely smiled anymore. You wanted to cheer her up, so you took us to that new festival.

I think I was seven. Maybe eight? No, I had to be seven.

I remember grabbing Mom’s hands and begging her to dance with me. She didn’t want to. Of course she didn’t. Mom never wants to do anything when people are watching her. But then you pushed her into the circle while she was still holding onto me.

She turned so red, Dad. I don’t know if you remember how embarrassed she was. Then she started spinning me around in those awkward little circles. She was such a terrible dancer. She still is, by the way. And she did that ridiculous spinning thing she always does until I felt sick.

But she was happy. Like, truly happy, Dad.

I hadn’t seen her laugh like that in a long time. I remember reaching out and grabbing your hand so all three of us were dancing together. Everyone was laughing at you and Mom because neither of you had any idea what you were doing.

I still maintain I was the only one in our family with any real rhythm. And before you say anything, my friends are wrong, they don’t know what rhythm is.

You’d become Commander not long before that. Gramps died, you took his place, and everyone accepted you almost immediately. Gramps always said you were next in line anyway. Suddenly you were everyone’s leader. You were always my leader.

Sorry. I got off track again.

I guess being at the festival today made me miss all of that more than usual. It’s strange how clearly I can still remember some things. If I close my eyes, I can almost hear you and Mom laughing.

I’m trying to be okay, though. I’m away from Mom right now. We had another fight, and before you ask, yes, this one really was my fault. This time, I swear.

I’m meeting Jenny and Enju soon. I’m only a day or two out now. I’m taking my own ship too. The one they helped me build. I think you’d like my ship.

Anyway, Dad, I love you. I miss you.

-Love your daughter, Akari

Dear Dad,

Okay, you are not going to believe some of the things I’ve learned about you.

I caught up with Jenny and Enju yesterday, and somehow we ended up talking about you again. Shocking, I know. They started telling me stories about when you were all kids with Uncle Castor.

Why did you never tell me Uncle Cas was so mean to everyone?

Seriously, Dad. The way you talked about him, I always imagined the two of you getting into trouble together. Apparently half the time he was the trouble.

It made me think I should visit him soon. He’s been talking about taking Mom and me to your old home in the Mu system. Maybe Kylie and Troy will come too. He talks about you more than he used to.

The last time I saw him, all he wanted to do was train. I know that’s how he deals with things. He’d never actually say how he’s feeling because that would apparently kill him, but I know he misses training with you.

I mean, I get it… I miss it too.

Well, I wasn’t planning on staying away from home this long. I know what you’re thinking. I need to go talk to Mom. Don’t worry, I will, eventually.

Things just… I don’t know, it was just bad between us, and I think we both need some space. You know how we are. And yes, I know she loves me. You don’t have to give me that look. I love her too. We’re just too much alike sometimes.

Actually, everyone says I look like her, but I think we both know I’m more like you.

Except for the stubbornness. Apparently that’s all Mom. At least that’s what everyone keeps telling me.

Anyway, with everything being peaceful right now, I’ve been thinking about traveling the way you did before you met Mom. I’m going to stay with Jenny and Enju for a while. I might even shadow them and see what their work is actually like.

Don’t worry. I knew you were going to worry. I know patrol work can be dangerous, but I’m strong enough to take care of myself. Jenny and Enju are there too, and you know how protective they are. Honestly, they’re almost as bad as you were.

Their commanding officer is named Jacob. He’s hilarious. I don’t think he actually tries to be, which somehow makes it worse. Listening to him argue with Uncle Cas still makes me laugh.

I know Jenny and Enju aren’t technically family, but you always treated them like your sisters, and they still talk about you like their brother. Being around them feels comfortable. I think that’s part of why I wanted to come out here in the first place.

Sorry, I’m rambling again.

Remember when you and Mom first taught me how to write? I’d start writing something to one of you, then halfway through I’d decide the other one needed to hear it too. Apparently I haven’t changed much. Sometimes I think you rubbed off on all of us more than any of us realized.

Oh, Jacob just barged in and started yelling at everyone, so apparently I’m supposed to sleep now.

Jenny and Enju are taking me on a job near a volcano next. I’m going to bring back some rocks for Uncle Nate and Uncle Hale.

And yes, I’ll get one for Mom. I knew you were going to ask.

Love you, Dad. Miss you.

-Love your daughter, Akari

Dear Dad,

Dad, I’m getting married.

I know. I can barely believe it either. For a long time, I didn’t think I’d ever find anyone after Jon. I really didn’t. Then I met Amy.

Actually, remember when I told you I was going to shadow Jenny and Enju? That’s when I met her. All those years ago. I had absolutely no idea what I was walking into.

You would love her, Dad. At least, I think you would. No, actually, I know you would.

She’s so different from the person I thought I’d end up with. Maybe that’s part of why I fell for her. I don’t know. I just knew almost immediately.

Kind of like you and Mom. Don’t get smug about that.

Oh, and I made Uncle Cas cry. I swear I did. I asked him to walk me down the aisle, and he just froze. Completely froze. Then he turned away from me, cracked his neck like he always does when he doesn’t know what to say, and turned back with his eyes wide open.

Honestly, he scared me a little. But his eyes were red. Don’t worry. I haven’t told him I noticed. Okay, that’s a lie. I’ve absolutely told him.

Dad, I really wish you could meet Amy. She’s the comm specialist on my ship.

Oh. Right. I actually haven’t told you about that yet.

I’m a commander now.

I know! I probably should have started with that, but I’m getting married, Dad. I think I’m allowed to be a little distracted.

I have my own ship. It’s called the Silent Dragoon. I know the name is a little cheesy, but I like it. Amy makes fun of me for it sometimes.

She’s sweet. She’s funny too. She’s usually pretty gentle, but when it comes to protecting someone she cares about, that changes fast.

She’s not like us when it comes to fighting, though. She didn’t grow up in a military family like we did. Fighting has never come naturally to her, and she doesn’t pretend otherwise. That’s part of what I love about her.

She became a comm specialist because she likes keeping people connected. She says she’d rather help from somewhere other than the battlefield.

And apparently someone has to make sure people like me actually make it home. Her words, not mine.

Oh! And Dad? I met Salira. You really could have warned me. Grandma is kinda crazy.

Anyway, I should probably go. I have a wedding to plan. I’m getting married. Wow.

I love you, Dad. I miss you.

-Love your daughter, Akari

Dear Dad,

Okay. This one’s harder for me. I’ve started it a few times already. I keep stopping because I don’t know how to say what I want to say. But I think I’m ready now. I think I’ve finally found that clarity you used to talk about.

I miss you, Dad. I really miss you, more than I can handle honestly. You’re gone. There. I said it. I’ve said it before, out loud, but never to you.

For a long time, I blamed myself for that. Sometimes I still do. I know I didn’t kill you. You made your own choice that day, just like I made mine. Knowing that doesn’t stop me from wondering whether my hesitation gave you the chance to make it.

And I was angry with you. God, I was angry with you. You should have asked for help. You should have let me help you. You shouldn’t have taken that choice away from me. I’m not as angry anymore. Not like I used to be. But I needed to say it. I needed you to hear it.

I still think about the choice I was given. You. Mom. Me. Three lives reduced to a decision I had only minutes to make. I could save you and lose Mom. I could save Mom and lose you. Or I could give up my own life and save both of you.

I knew what you would’ve chosen. You would’ve sacrificed yourself without even thinking about it if it meant Mom and I could live. Mom would’ve done the same thing. Maybe that’s where I got it from, because I chose me. I said I would give up my life.

I was asked if I was sure, if that was really what I wanted. I said yes. All I had to do was step forward.

And I hesitated.

That’s the part I don’t tell people. I don’t know how long it lasted. Maybe a second. Maybe five. It probably wasn’t nearly as long as it’s become in my memory. But I remember standing there knowing exactly what I’d chosen, and my body wouldn’t move.

I was scared, Dad. I was so scared. I’d just said I was willing to die for you and Mom, but when it was actually time to do it, I was scared to die.

You were looking at me. That’s what I can’t forget. You saw me standing there. You saw that I was afraid. And for years I’ve wondered if that’s why you did what you did. Maybe if I’d stepped forward immediately, you wouldn’t have had time to take my place. Maybe if I hadn’t been afraid, you’d still be here. Maybe those few seconds are the reason I’m sitting here talking to you when I know you can’t answer me.

I know what you’d say. I can practically hear you. You’d tell me I’m being ridiculous. You’d tell me anyone would’ve been afraid. You’d probably give me one of those speeches about how being afraid and doing something anyway is what courage actually means. I know. I’ve told myself the same thing. It doesn’t stop me from wondering.

But I did move.

That’s important. I think I’m finally starting to understand that. I thought about what you’d told me before we were captured. You said it was my time. My time to lead. My time to live my own life without carrying everything that had been placed on you. You told me every choice you’d ever made had led you to me. That being my father gave your life more meaning than any title ever could.

I hated hearing that. I didn’t care what was supposed to happen tomorrow. I didn’t care what my life could become. I wanted my family. I wanted you and Mom. I wanted all three of us to go home. And for one stupid, selfish moment, I thought I’d finally found a way to make that happen.

So I took a breath, closed my eyes, and even though I was terrified, I stepped forward.

But I was too late. Before I could step forward, you took my place.

I was so angry with you. I’d made my choice, and you took it away from me. I felt like I couldn’t live without one of you. But underneath all that anger was something worse. Maybe you died because, for one terrible moment, I wasn’t brave enough to.

There were days when I wished you’d just let me go. I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t want to hear that, but it’s true. Sometimes missing you hurt so much that I couldn’t understand why you thought staying here without you was supposed to be some kind of gift.

I think I understand now. You weren’t asking me to become you. You weren’t asking me to spend the rest of my life carrying yours. You wanted me to have my own.

And now I do.

I wish you could see it. I wish you could see Mom now. I wish you could see Uncle Cas pretending he doesn’t miss you every day. I wish you could see my ship and meet my crew. You’d make fun of me the second you saw me sitting in the commander’s chair. I know you would.

Most of all, I wish you could meet Amy. God, Dad, I wish you could meet her.

We got married.

Uncle Cas walked me down the aisle. He squeezed my arm way too hard and spent the entire walk pretending he wasn’t about to cry. I’ve been making fun of him for it ever since. But as much as I love Uncle Cas, he’s not you.

You weren’t standing there with me. You should have walked me down the aisle. Amy will only ever know you through the stories I tell her. I’ll never get to introduce you. I’ll never get to watch you embarrass me in front of her. And you didn’t get to dance with me.

You were terrible at dancing, Dad. You really were. And somehow, that’s what finally made me understand.

For years, I thought you chose death. You didn’t. You chose all the days I hadn’t lived yet.

Every stupid argument I’ve had with Mom. Jenny and Enju driving me crazy. My first ship and every mistake I made learning how to use it. Uncle Cas walking me down the aisle. You chose Amy.

And I finally understand because if Amy had been standing where I was, I would’ve done exactly what you did. I wouldn’t care if she hesitated. I wouldn’t care if she was afraid. I wouldn’t care how desperately she tried to stop me. I’d just want her to live.

Maybe that’s what I’ve needed to understand all these years. Maybe you didn’t take my place because I hesitated. Maybe I could’ve stepped forward without a second of fear and you still would’ve found a way to stop me.

I don’t know if that’ll ever completely silence the part of me that counts those few seconds and wonders what would’ve happened if I’d moved sooner. Maybe I’ll always carry that with me.

But I don’t hate that scared girl anymore. She wanted to live.

And Dad, I do too.

I want to grow old with Amy. I want more ridiculous fights with Mom. I want to keep traveling and see places I’ve never seen. I want Uncle Cas to annoy me for another fifty years. I want all those ordinary days I used to think didn’t matter. I want tomorrow.

I still wish you were here. I’d give almost anything to dance badly with you one more time. But I think I’m finally ready to accept the life you gave me.

I’m Akari. I’m your daughter.

And I’m going to live.

I love you, Dad. I always will.

-Love your daughter, Akari