It’s just a few more months until God sends us another gift.
Taylor
On April 4, 2010, God sent me the best thing since Peyton. I gave birth to a baby girl weighing seven pounds, eleven ounces. I named her Peyton Hayley Giordano. I chose the first name for obvious reasons, and her middle name comes from Peyton’s half-sister. Her full name is meant to reflect her father’s, Peyton Hale Giordano.
She has red hair and green eyes and resembles her dad a lot; she’s beautiful. Mason stands next to me as I hold her in my arms; the only wish I have is for Peyton to be here too, but I know he already is.
“Hey, you’re beautiful, do you know that? You look just like your daddy,” I tell Peyton as I look into her green eyes and smile.
“She really does,” Mason comments.
She seems to smile at me, and I smile back. I have the most amazing feeling anyone can ever have. I am officially a mother and I will protect her for the rest of my life. I’m going to give her the love I never got as a child. I’m going to give her the love her father would’ve given her.
Jackson
I knock on Taylor’s door. She doesn’t know I’m coming by; I want to surprise her and congratulate her. Not to mention I’m anxious to see my niece for the first time. Taylor moved back into the place she shared with Peyton. She opens the door and a look of surprise invades her face. She has Peyton in her arms, but she’s so shocked, she could’ve dropped her.
“Oh my God, Jackson, what are you doing here?” she asks, surprised but excited.
“You really thought I was going to wait to see my niece?” I answer.
“Come in, I just finished feeding her.”
“Good thing I missed out on that one,” I say, joking with her. “Can I hold her?” I ask, once we sit down.
“Yeah, sure.” Taylor hands her over to me.
She’s beautiful and has the prettiest eyes I have ever seen on a baby. Peyton looks so much like her father, it is frightening. I guess Peyton was smarter than we knew; he left behind a piece of himself before he went away.
I look over at Taylor, who has a wistful look on her face. Looking at Peyton reminds her of Peyton, and it bothers her. She knows I notice the look and begins letting her feelings out.
“It’s hard—looking at her and knowing she will never know her father. Who wants to grow up only knowing of their father, but never knowing him? Not even I had to go through that—I was lucky enough to learn for myself that my father is a careless jerk,” she says, looking at Peyton as I hold her.
“She’ll know herself; and that alone will give her some form of understanding of who her father was and what he was like. He may not be here with her physically but he’s always here with her.” Even though it was true, I just had to tell her something to make her feel better.
“I guess you’re right…but…I don’t know, it’s just not the same…And it’s hard to deal with right now.”
“It’ll always be hard to deal with, but you just have to be there to teach her how to go on. Let her know that she’s still loved, with or without a father. Did Mom and Dad see her yet?”
“No. I called, but they said they couldn’t make it to the hospital. And they haven’t called me since. It’s okay though, she doesn’t have to know her grandparents. She has other people who love her,” Taylor says, a little annoyed.
“They love her. They just have a hard time showing it,” I assure her.
“If that’s what you want to call it,” she says, ending that conversation.
I stay with Taylor for a few hours and give her the gifts that I bought for Peyton. I leave a little worried about Taylor’s mental state. I know she will stay strong for her child, but what about when Peyton isn’t around? That’s the part that worries me the most.
Mason
I’m on my way to pick up Peyton from Taylor’s apartment. Taylor claims she needs some alone time, and Peyton is becoming a handful. Peyton is already three months old and Taylor’s nineteenth birthday is right around the corner. I can’t believe our teenage years were pretty much over. We’re already through our first year of college, but that was the easiest thing we had to overcome. Next month, it will be a year since Peyton died. Time really does fly by. That was the hardest thing we had to overcome, and something tells me that we still haven’t quite gotten over it. I’ve been told that the first year is always the hardest and every year that follows gets easier and easier. But I suppose the death of a loved one is something that we never get over. We just learn to live with it.
I arrive at Taylor’s, get out of the car, and go straight to the elevator. I barely have the chance to ring the doorbell before Taylor opens the door and hands Peyton to me.
“Go with your uncle Mason for a while, and Mommy will see you later,” she tells Peyton as she gives her a long kiss and hug.
“You’re in a hurry,” I say.
“Mason, I need to rest! I’m going insane here. Just take good care of her, promise?”
“Okay, I will…I promise,” I say to her.
“Mason, you’re a great friend and you’ll make a wonderful husband and father someday. She hugs me and kisses me on the cheek. “I just thought you should know that,” she says.
Something about her lips touching me still makes me warm inside. I’m not over Taylor yet. I probably will never be over her.
I strap Peyton into the car seat that’s already in my car. I’m going to take her to my place, just until Taylor is ready for her. There isn’t much I can do with a three-month-old baby. Something’s wrong, but I don’t let the feeling bother me too much.
Taylor
I feel guilty, I really do. I put Peyton off on Mason, but I’ve seen him with her, and she’s better off there. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live this way. I miss my Peyton too much and looking at his daughter only reminds me of him even more. I’m going to write a letter to Mason explaining why I had to leave. I love Peyton and I want the best for her. That is why I’m leaving. I can’t give her what she needs. I can’t give her what Mason is capable of giving her.
I pull out a piece of paper and pen and begin writing my letter:
Dear Mason,
I’m sorry I’m writing this to you, but you have to understand why I am doing this. I can’t go on pretending that I’m strong and that I can handle this. The truth is, I can’t. I love Peyton more than words can explain, but I also love my Peyton. For that reason, I must go. Every time I lay my eyes on her, I see him. I chose you because you are an amazing person and I saw how well you handle her. She loves you and I know that you love her as if she’s your daughter.
I know you’re going to be angry with me—possibly forever—and I can’t blame you for that. But please, whatever you do, tell my daughter nothing but great things about me and her father. I want her to grow up with the best image of us in her mind.
Tell Jackson not to be angry with me and that I love him, forever and always. I appreciate everything he’s ever done for me and I don’t want him to ever feel otherwise.
Tell my parents I wish we could’ve had a better relationship, but now I’m giving them what they always wanted: one less child. Let Kristen know that I do love her and I wish we were closer.
As for you, Mason, I love you so much. You are a great friend and you were there for me when Peyton left, even though you were just as broken. I would love it if you are the same way with my daughter. Let her know love and understand it the way you and Peyton helped me to understand it. Share my writings and Peyton’s music with her; it’ll help.
I have to leave now, but don’t forget to tell everyone those things and let them all know that I love them, even my parents. I’m not doing this to hurt you, Mason. I’m doing Peyton a favor. Please pray for my soul.
Forever love,
Taylor
Tearstains decorate the paper as I write my letter of good-bye to the ones I’ve come to know and love. I have to leave; I have to be with my Peyton. I take out a knife and look at it fo
r a while. I try not to second-think it, so I just pick it up. I say a short prayer and ask God to forgive me for what I am about to do. I know it’s a sin, but I have convinced myself I am doing it for a good reason. I close my eyes and carve an X on the left side of my chest. That’s the place that hurts the most: my heart. A tragic heart isn’t needed in the world.
No matter how much time passes, my heart will always be tragic without Peyton around, and I can’t live that way. I want to hold him again and look into his eyes. I can’t do that here.
I quickly push the knife into the middle of the X and I gasp. The pain is cruel and intense, but it isn’t half as painful as living without Peyton. I drop to the floor and look up toward the ceiling. I ask God to forgive me one last time. I know this is it. It’s all over.
The pain and the suffering will be all gone. My daughter is safe, and Mason is strong. Jackson has another life and he’ll find some way to go on.
I close my eyes and smile; I see Peyton and I know I am home.
Mason
I place flowers on Taylor and Peyton’s tombstones. I can’t believe they are both gone. Five years ago, I found Taylor lying lifeless next to a note she’d written just moments before. I knew something wasn’t right that day I left her.
I wish she’d just talked to me about how she was feeling. If she had, she’d be right here next to me with her gorgeous daughter. Peyton has grown up so much and she’s extremely smart and wise for her age.
Jackson almost quit music when he heard the news, but I talked him out of it. I told him that Taylor loved him and she wouldn’t want him to quit. Jackson’s become an icon in the little bit of time he’s been famous. His records won’t stop selling, and it’s hard to go anywhere without hearing him.
Taylor’s parents took the news really hard. It was the first time her mother admitted that she loved her. I wish Taylor had been around to hear it. Kristen felt guilty for never taking the time out to get to know her. I told her that if she had, she would’ve loved her just like I did.
I was completely broken apart when I lost Taylor. My world crumbled and it has just begun to start rebuilding itself. I’m twenty-four and engaged to a beautiful woman. She’s not Taylor, but I wasn’t expecting her to be. She was there for me through it all, and I owe my survival to her.
I’ve become a successful, best-selling author and I dedicate every book and story I write to Peyton and Taylor. They played the biggest roles in my life. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be the man I am today.
They taught me a lot. They taught me that love is stronger than anything else on this planet and that sometimes we do things and make decisions not because of love, but because of commitment. They taught me how to fight through hard times and how to live. They taught me friendship and good times. But most of all, they taught me how to forgive and to never waste time on regret or hold grudges.
Peyton and Taylor were the most important people life has given me, and I don’t think life will ever be that generous again. The great thing is that I have Peyton Hayley Giordano, the best five-year-old you’ll ever meet. She looks like her father but has her mother’s personality. She is blessed with both of their talents. She’s great with words and she’s learning to play two instruments, guitar and piano, just like her mom and dad.
“Uncle Mason, Auntie Adalyn said to hurry so we can go to the park!” Peyton yells as she runs over to me and jumps into my arms.
The wind pushes her hair away from her face, exposing her piercing green eyes. She looks down at her parents’ graves and then looks back at me.
“Later on tonight, can you tell me the story about Mommy and Daddy again? They’re my favorite love story,” she says with the innocent voice of a child.
“I thought Cinderella was your favorite love story,” I say to her as I carry her toward the car.
“No, it’s Mommy and Daddy. Their story is real and not made up, that’s why it’s my favorite.”
She’s mature for her age and that makes her even cuter.
“You know what my favorite part is, Uncle Mason?”
“No, but you should tell me!”
“The end,” she exclaims.
“Why the end?” I ask, confused about why she would like the saddest part of the story.
“Because it makes me feel better knowing that Mommy and Daddy are safe and happy now. They’re in heaven, and you said heaven is the place good people go.”
“That’s right, Peyton. They are happy,” I tell her as I put her in the car.
“Uncle Mason, can I call you and Auntie Adalyn Daddy and Mommy from now on?”
“Uh, sure. Of course you can, sweetie,” I answer, clearly taken by surprise by her question.
I put my key in the ignition, but I have to pause before I pull out of the parking lot. I get this way every time I visit Peyton and Taylor or whenever Peyton mentions them, which is often.
“She asked about her parents again?” Adalyn asks me, quietly enough that Peyton won’t hear.
“Yeah,” I say.
The one thing Taylor failed to realize is that her heart wasn’t the only one that was tragic; there are plenty of us out there. In fact, we all are the owners of a tragic heart. We all experience death, life, depression, happiness; we gain things and we lose things. Truth is, we are all tragedies waiting to happen. We just have to remember to have the rescue crew nearby when it strikes…
A Tragic Heart Page 29