By Don Tassone

For 75 years, David Moore thought about a letter he had written when he was 10 years old.  

He wrote it in the fourth grade as a school assignment.  His teacher, Mrs. Chamberlain, was trying to help her students understand history — specifically, how our perspective on current events changes over time and how our perspective, not just the events themselves, becomes what we know as history.

To try to bring this lesson home, she had her students write letters to themselves about something that was happening in their lives and what it meant to them.  She wanted them to then put the letter away and read it years in the future.

“What you see a certain way today may take on a completely different meaning years from now,” she said.  “You’ll see.”

David chose to write about his greatest fear at that moment in his life.  His parents were divorcing.  He didn’t know why, but he remembered blaming his mother.

Years later, just before David left for college, his mom told him his father had beat her.  He wouldn’t stop, she said.  She couldn’t take it any longer and feared for the safety of her children.  So she left him and filed for divorce.

David was stunned.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Mom?”

“I didn’t want you to hate your father.  But I’m telling you now, before you go out into the world.  I want you to promise me you’ll always treat everyone with respect.  I want you to promise me you’ll never hit a woman.”

“Oh, Mom.  I promise.”

They were both crying, and they held each other a long time.

                                                                    #

Over the years, David looked for his letter but could never find it. Now he and his wife Sandy were moving out of their house and into a retirement community.

They’d lived in their house for 50 years, and deciding what to keep and what to give away was a monumental task.  Fortunately, their children, Brian and Kimberly, and their spouses, Nicole and Matt, were a big help.

One day, Kimberly came up from the basement holding an envelope.

“Here, Dad,” she said, handing it to him.  “I found this on the bottom a box.  It’s got your name on it.”

David recognized his youthful handwriting, and his mind raced back to that school assignment.  With shaking hands, he carefully opened the envelope, unfolded the letter inside and read it.

December 10, 1958

Dear David,

Today I found out Mom and Dad are going to get a divorce.  That means they won’t be married anymore.

Mom told me.  She didn’t say why they’re getting a divorce, only that their marriage “wasn’t working” and, from now on, Carol, Joe and I will live with her.

Mom says she still loves Dad.  But if that’s true, then why are they getting a divorce?

I don’t think Mom is telling the truth.  It seems like she’s hiding something.  Dad has always been good to me, but she threw him out, and now I can’t talk to him.  I think this might be Mom’s fault.

Mrs. Chamberlain says we should read these letters years from now, that how we see something today will change over time.  All I know is that my parents are getting a divorce, and I don’t trust my mom anymore.  And I don’t care what Mrs. Chamberlain says, that’s not going to change.

I hope we’ll all be OK.

Signed,

David Moore

David’s eyes welled with tears.

“Are you okay?” Sandy said.

“Yeah,” he said, wiping his eyes.

Then he asked everyone to have a seat in the family room.  He told them about his school assignment and what Mrs. Chamberlain had said about history unfolding over time.  Then he read his letter out loud.

“Oh, Dad,” Kimberly said.  “That must have been such a hard time for you.”

“It was,” David said.  “But there’s much more to the story.”

“There is?” Sandy said.

“Yes, and it’s something I haven’t told any of you.”

Nobody said anything.  Nobody knew what to say.

Then he told them what his mother had told him all those years ago and the promise he made to her.

“Oh, honey,” Sandy said, putting her arm around him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” David said.  “It was just too painful.  I was ashamed.  I was ashamed for my mother.”

“But you were true to your word,” Sandy said.  “You’ve never hit me.”

“Or me,” Kimberly said.

“Or me,” said Brian.

“David, don’t you remember?” Sandy said.  “Before we were married, you told me you would never hit me and made me promise we would never hit our children.”

David nodded.

Kimberly and Brian looked at their spouses.

“Dad,” Kimberly said, “Mom told us that, and Matt and I made the same promise to each other before we got married.  We told our kids, and they and their spouses made the same promise to each other too.”

“Same with us and our kids,” Brian said, taking Nicole’s hand.

David looked at them all and smiled.  He realized his mother’s suffering and the pain and shame he had felt as a boy had been transformed into relationships based on respect, down through the generations.

It was all now part of his family’s history, which had taken years to unfold and was still unfolding.  Mrs. Chamberlain was right, David thought.

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Don Tassone is the author of two novels and seven short story collections.  He lives in Loveland, Ohio.  Visit him at https://www.dontassone.com.