Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Cancer- A Letter To My Dearly Departed Frankie
Cancer- A Letter To My Dearly Departed Frankie
12 reviewsIt's been five years since Frank passed away. (Gerard's letter to Frank) (One-shot)
1TrainWreck
Cancer
A Letter to My Dearly Departed Frankie
December 18, 2001
Friday
8 pm
My Dearest Frankie,
How I miss you so. Though it has been five years to the day since your leukemia was diagnosed as terminal, your memory still leaves a huge hole in my chest. Today I walked down to our favorite spots throughout the town, as I did that day and have done every year since. I walked out to the park beside our little house; the house that we bought together. We worked so hard to get the money and to work up the courage to tell our parents that we were getting married. Your parents would not accept you, and you cried in my arms as your mother’s screams of rage echoed through your mind.
Despite everything, we were married just six months later, in the park beside our little house. You looked striking in the simple black tux, and I could hardly keep myself from kissing you before the priest gave me my cue. It was so cute how you had to stand on tiptoes to wrap your arms around my neck, and how you were so light that I could pick you up and carry you to the car.
I also went to the quaint little motel today; the motel where we had our honeymoon. We were given stares and sneers from many homophobes that were staying there, but the man behind the counter was kind and gave us the honeymoon suite. It was small and cute, with a vase of fresh calalilies, your favorite flower, in the window. That was the night that we first made love, do you remember. It had been so hard for us to wait until marriage, but we succeeded. Secretly, I was glad that we had. I was scared and nervous and completely inexperienced, but then again, we both were. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, we both agreed that waking up in each other’s arms and knowing that we’d never have to let go made that day the best ever.
I walked down to the bowling alley today as well, the place where we first kissed. It was a school field trip, and neither of us was completely sure whether we were gay or not. We kissed in secret in the back corner of the establishment, and Mikey walked in and busted us. I remember the look of total surprise on your face when I said “Screw him,” and kissed you again. We were both fifteen, and by the end of that night, we both knew we were in love.
I walked down to our old treehouse today. It was desolate and deserted, but I was surprised to see a family of rabbits had moved in to the abandoned building. I know you would have loved it. The biggest rabbit was blonde, just like the one that I got you for your twentieth birthday. You fell in love with it and named it Bob, in his honor. We all laughed so hard when the rabbit jumped on Bob’s drumset, do you recall? He was bright red with anger and almost killed the poor thing. But when he saw the pleading look in your face, he calmed down immediately. Even to Bob, your pleas were unable to be ignored.
I stopped by the school today, the place where we first met. It was our freshman year, and you had switched from the public school due to bullies. I was surprised that no one had told you that the bullies at the private school were worse. I heard people calling you an ugly fag, and hated them for it. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. That first day, I stood up for you and got myself labeled as an ugly fag as well. But we instantly became friends. Though I got my head shoved in a toilet, I couldn’t have imagined a better day.
My god, Frankie, I wish you could see how our daughter has grown. Alice’s birth mother agrees that she somehow looks just like you, though she is an adopted child. I wish you could see her. With her raven hair and green-hazel eyes, she’s the spitting image of you. She’s five years old now, and is extremely bright for a child of her age. What worries me, however, is how to explain to her why she only has one parent. Just the other day, she asked me why she didn’t have a mommy. I told her that it was because her mommy had had her for me so I could have a beautiful baby girl, and she asked why her mommy had given her away. It would have been so much easier to have you there with me, to sit her down and explain to her. But, since I couldn’t, I sat her down and told her this-
“Alice, dear, your mommy gave you to me. You used to have two daddies, and since two daddies can’t have a baby, we asked your mommy if we could have you. She couldn’t give you a good home like you needed, so she agreed to let us be your daddies.”
When the dear girl asked how anyone could have two daddies, I felt as though I was going to break down. She is so smart, though sometimes I wish it wasn’t so. It hurt so much to have to sit and tell her-
“Alice, baby, most people don’t. Most people have a mommy and a daddy and that’s it. However, sometimes, two boys fall in love instead of a girl and a boy. There’s nothing wrong with it, though most people think so. I loved your daddy Frank very much, but he had to go away, when you were very little.”
She very sweetly asked me, then, why you had to go away. This was when I started to cry, and pulled her into a hug.
“Your daddy Frank,” I told her, “got very sick. He had to go to heaven so he could get better. God decided to keep him there until it was our turn to go to heaven and see him again, rather than bring him back here and let him get sick again.”
She seemed much happier to hear that you were feeling better. I showed her pictures of you and me together when we were younger, before the cancer hit, and I told her stories about how we used to have to hide our love from everyone. I explained to her why people felt that it was wrong for us to love each other, and she asked all kinds of questions about her “Frankie Daddy.”
I felt terrible, however, when Alice came home from Kindergarten the next day in tears. She said that the students had teased her when she said she had two daddies, and that the teacher had said it was unnatural. I couldn’t let them hurt her, Frankie, so I am home-schooling her. I know you said that you wanted her to go to school with the rest of the children her age, but I could not subject her to that. I’m sorry.
I went with Mikey to visit you today, and for the first time ever, I took our daughter. She very calmly, and without shedding a tear, walked up to your grave and placed on it a gorgeous painting of us- you, Alice, and me, with her Uncle Mikey pushing up his glasses like usual. She told you that she loved you, though I’m sure you heard it, and hugged your tombstone. She then walked back solemnly to where I stood, tears pouring down my face, clutching Mikey for dear life. Alice looked up at me and said, “Daddy? Why are you crying?”
When I told her that I was crying because I missed you, she smiled at me sweetly.
“Silly Daddy. You’ll get to see Frankie Daddy soon. A day in heaven is millions on earth.”
It hurts a bit to know that our five year old daughter had to be the one to remind me of that.
Well, my dearest Frankie, I finish writing this letter in the light of the dying fire this cold winter evening. My heart aches, though the ache has lessened slightly in the past five years. I’m sure it will continue to lessen, though it will not disappear until the day I join you in heaven.
I am going to burn this letter, as I have every other for the past five years, in hopes that you will snatch the letter from the smoke that rises to heaven, and read it. If you do, I want you to know just how much I love you. No one could ever make me feel the way you did, and still do. I will never love anyone else, but you. I love you, Frankie, and I always will.
Yours forever and ever,
Gee
XOXOXO
A Letter to My Dearly Departed Frankie
December 18, 2001
Friday
8 pm
My Dearest Frankie,
How I miss you so. Though it has been five years to the day since your leukemia was diagnosed as terminal, your memory still leaves a huge hole in my chest. Today I walked down to our favorite spots throughout the town, as I did that day and have done every year since. I walked out to the park beside our little house; the house that we bought together. We worked so hard to get the money and to work up the courage to tell our parents that we were getting married. Your parents would not accept you, and you cried in my arms as your mother’s screams of rage echoed through your mind.
Despite everything, we were married just six months later, in the park beside our little house. You looked striking in the simple black tux, and I could hardly keep myself from kissing you before the priest gave me my cue. It was so cute how you had to stand on tiptoes to wrap your arms around my neck, and how you were so light that I could pick you up and carry you to the car.
I also went to the quaint little motel today; the motel where we had our honeymoon. We were given stares and sneers from many homophobes that were staying there, but the man behind the counter was kind and gave us the honeymoon suite. It was small and cute, with a vase of fresh calalilies, your favorite flower, in the window. That was the night that we first made love, do you remember. It had been so hard for us to wait until marriage, but we succeeded. Secretly, I was glad that we had. I was scared and nervous and completely inexperienced, but then again, we both were. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, we both agreed that waking up in each other’s arms and knowing that we’d never have to let go made that day the best ever.
I walked down to the bowling alley today as well, the place where we first kissed. It was a school field trip, and neither of us was completely sure whether we were gay or not. We kissed in secret in the back corner of the establishment, and Mikey walked in and busted us. I remember the look of total surprise on your face when I said “Screw him,” and kissed you again. We were both fifteen, and by the end of that night, we both knew we were in love.
I walked down to our old treehouse today. It was desolate and deserted, but I was surprised to see a family of rabbits had moved in to the abandoned building. I know you would have loved it. The biggest rabbit was blonde, just like the one that I got you for your twentieth birthday. You fell in love with it and named it Bob, in his honor. We all laughed so hard when the rabbit jumped on Bob’s drumset, do you recall? He was bright red with anger and almost killed the poor thing. But when he saw the pleading look in your face, he calmed down immediately. Even to Bob, your pleas were unable to be ignored.
I stopped by the school today, the place where we first met. It was our freshman year, and you had switched from the public school due to bullies. I was surprised that no one had told you that the bullies at the private school were worse. I heard people calling you an ugly fag, and hated them for it. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. That first day, I stood up for you and got myself labeled as an ugly fag as well. But we instantly became friends. Though I got my head shoved in a toilet, I couldn’t have imagined a better day.
My god, Frankie, I wish you could see how our daughter has grown. Alice’s birth mother agrees that she somehow looks just like you, though she is an adopted child. I wish you could see her. With her raven hair and green-hazel eyes, she’s the spitting image of you. She’s five years old now, and is extremely bright for a child of her age. What worries me, however, is how to explain to her why she only has one parent. Just the other day, she asked me why she didn’t have a mommy. I told her that it was because her mommy had had her for me so I could have a beautiful baby girl, and she asked why her mommy had given her away. It would have been so much easier to have you there with me, to sit her down and explain to her. But, since I couldn’t, I sat her down and told her this-
“Alice, dear, your mommy gave you to me. You used to have two daddies, and since two daddies can’t have a baby, we asked your mommy if we could have you. She couldn’t give you a good home like you needed, so she agreed to let us be your daddies.”
When the dear girl asked how anyone could have two daddies, I felt as though I was going to break down. She is so smart, though sometimes I wish it wasn’t so. It hurt so much to have to sit and tell her-
“Alice, baby, most people don’t. Most people have a mommy and a daddy and that’s it. However, sometimes, two boys fall in love instead of a girl and a boy. There’s nothing wrong with it, though most people think so. I loved your daddy Frank very much, but he had to go away, when you were very little.”
She very sweetly asked me, then, why you had to go away. This was when I started to cry, and pulled her into a hug.
“Your daddy Frank,” I told her, “got very sick. He had to go to heaven so he could get better. God decided to keep him there until it was our turn to go to heaven and see him again, rather than bring him back here and let him get sick again.”
She seemed much happier to hear that you were feeling better. I showed her pictures of you and me together when we were younger, before the cancer hit, and I told her stories about how we used to have to hide our love from everyone. I explained to her why people felt that it was wrong for us to love each other, and she asked all kinds of questions about her “Frankie Daddy.”
I felt terrible, however, when Alice came home from Kindergarten the next day in tears. She said that the students had teased her when she said she had two daddies, and that the teacher had said it was unnatural. I couldn’t let them hurt her, Frankie, so I am home-schooling her. I know you said that you wanted her to go to school with the rest of the children her age, but I could not subject her to that. I’m sorry.
I went with Mikey to visit you today, and for the first time ever, I took our daughter. She very calmly, and without shedding a tear, walked up to your grave and placed on it a gorgeous painting of us- you, Alice, and me, with her Uncle Mikey pushing up his glasses like usual. She told you that she loved you, though I’m sure you heard it, and hugged your tombstone. She then walked back solemnly to where I stood, tears pouring down my face, clutching Mikey for dear life. Alice looked up at me and said, “Daddy? Why are you crying?”
When I told her that I was crying because I missed you, she smiled at me sweetly.
“Silly Daddy. You’ll get to see Frankie Daddy soon. A day in heaven is millions on earth.”
It hurts a bit to know that our five year old daughter had to be the one to remind me of that.
Well, my dearest Frankie, I finish writing this letter in the light of the dying fire this cold winter evening. My heart aches, though the ache has lessened slightly in the past five years. I’m sure it will continue to lessen, though it will not disappear until the day I join you in heaven.
I am going to burn this letter, as I have every other for the past five years, in hopes that you will snatch the letter from the smoke that rises to heaven, and read it. If you do, I want you to know just how much I love you. No one could ever make me feel the way you did, and still do. I will never love anyone else, but you. I love you, Frankie, and I always will.
Yours forever and ever,
Gee
XOXOXO
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