Chapter 24
"When we are children, we seldom think of the future. This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind."
— Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind
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June 15th, 2041
Dear Dean:
If being a parent taught me something important, I would say it is about enjoying time with your kid while you can still make him laugh by telling him silly jokes, or tickling him when he is moody.
DJ has gone off to college a couple months ago. A full ride to Stanford, just like me. I am so proud of my son. He is going to save lives, but not in the way we did. At age 18, he decided he wanted live a normal life and study medicine. I never pushed him to be a legacy of the Men of Letters, although he has read a lot about them. I figured it was up to him to find his own will to live either a life like this one, or travelling through the country to hunt monsters. If he had chosen the second option, I would still had been a supportive parent. I am not dad. I know I repeated that many times over the last couple letters, but I am always worried about that.
Even though he knows how to kill monsters now, and got the anti-possession tattoo on his forearm, he never showed a real interest to it. Maybe because he has lived a life every hunter's child should have experienced before choosing which way to go. He is smarter than I am, although it is clear that he has your appetite and likes to sleep until late morning if he can. When we were his age, we would not sleep for days, until the case was over. Sometimes I find myself remembering those days, and I see you smiling despite the crappy situation we are going through. Last year, Erik, Gen, Dean and I went to celebrate our last Fourth of July together, knowing that next year he would have a life to live away from home.
He took the Impala to Stanford, because it is his car since he turned eighteen years old. He sends me pictures of her every now and then. She is squeaky clean and can see the world again after being trapped within our garage for many years.
Seeing her go made me tear up. It hurt, but she deserves a better care than I can give her. She deserves to keep moving.
I am old and stuck here, while my little Dean is just starting a new chapter of his life. He will go on many road trips with friends, and eventually, find a partner to ride Baby with. Maybe even kids of his own one day. That would be an ultimate dream of mine, and yours too, I believe. Seeing your beloved Impala live on, even once we are gone.
I have to admit that the day before he left, I said goodbye to her. To that part of us I had been holding back for so long. Once I uncovered her, I almost sat in the passenger seat. Force of habit, I believe.
My legs are weak, but they still function. I sat in your place, and remembered the endless roads we have seen because of her. The speed, the smell of fast food inside it, and the times we slept on it when we could not afford to pay a motel room. The steering wheel was as clean as the day you last drove it, yet, I could not touch it being this version of me. A fifty-eight year old man with glasses and wrinkles on his face. I am not the Sammy I would still like to be anyways.
Closing my eyes, I took my glasses off, and got a grip of the steering wheel. I felt you there with me, and for a minute, I was young again. I was that boy that left college after Jess died. I was the annoying little brother who tried to save you from yourself when you were carrying the mark of Cain. It felt so good that I didn't want to let go.
The next morning, you were alive again and left along with the car. Maybe you are with your nephew now. Looking after Baby as well. Maybe you should stay there. With who we were. Not this life. Not with this old man good for nothing. It doesn't seem fair.
Mila is eleven years old, and she doesn't have much time left. Dean wanted to take her with him, but she's too old to jump to the car, or even walk these days. I still remember when we adopted her. DJ was just seven years old.
Time flies, and in a blink of an eye, things change. I changed too, to the point of not remembering who I was before the storm happened. This is life, and I play by its rules. At this point, I am letting things go. I don't know why. I need to do this, Dean.
No matter where you are, I will always think of you. Until my heart stops beating, the only thing that will matter is the love and lessons you taught me. Those things never get old.
Sam.
Author's Note: Hey guys! Here's another chapter. It almost made me cry while writing it. Poor Sammy…
I have something special planned for this story. Hope you are still enjoying it. Please, if you can, leave a review. That would make my day! Love you guys, and always remember to Carry On.
KW.-
