Dear Applejack

Chapters

Dear Applejack
Silence
From Ma
Family
Irony
Final Goodbye

Dear Applejack

The day was done, and the day’s labor with it. Celestia’s sun had lowered, slowly falling below the horizon as the sky was painted in a layered cascade of reds and violets. The wood creaked under dusty horseshoes as the orange mare ascended the stairs.
Applejack tossed the ten gallon hat from her mouth onto the rack as she pushed open the creaky door with her muzzle. The first thing that caught her eye was the white piece of paper on her bed, which she had never seen before. She closed the door with a hind leg, and approached the mysterious note, opening it.

Dear Applejack,
I’m not too good at writing, so don’t expect much from this letter. I’ll start off by saying there was never a single moment when your mother and I stopped loving you. You’re probably a bit older if you’re reading this. That is, if my ma listened to my instructions.

Your mother is at peace, my daughter, and I know that I don’t have much time left in my hourglass either. I write these letters because, despite how brave you thought I was, I could never summon the courage to say this to you. Even though you’re still young, and have a lot to learn, I know that you are everything we wanted you to be, and so, so much more. While it makes me the most proud soul in all of the earth to have known you and your brother, it breaks my heart more than anything else to know that I may never see the wonderful mare that young Applebloom will grow up to be. At least I can go out knowing that she is in good hooves. I want you to tell her about us, but don’t lie. Don’t make up stories about us being perfect ponies, that were always compassionate and loving no matter what. We weren’t, and you know that deep inside. Your mother and I were not prepared to be parents, and we never gave you or your brother what you deserved. We should have been so much better to you, and that is my only regret. You didn’t turn out to be the wonderful pony that you are now because of us. It was entirely you.

I know that what I’m about to say is very selfish, but it’s true. I’m glad that I’ll bite the dust before you do, because I could never, ever think of losing you. I’m sorry that I can’t stick around for a few more years, and I wish I could. But promise me you won’t mourn for me or your mother too much, it isn’t good for you. In time, all wounds will heal. Just keep your siblings strong, dear.

I can’t promise that I will be waiting for you, after this life. That is a promise that nopony can make. You three need to watch out for each other, because I don’t think your mother and I will be able to. But if you do find me, I can’t wait to share a drop of the pure, and have a good, long talk. If not, then let these letters be the last thing your mother and I will ever say to you. When she’s old enough, give these to Applebloom. She deserves to know everything there is to learn. Watch over her, and protect her. You and Big Macintosh will have to be her parents, and for that I apologize.

You know that pink ribbon your mother always wore? Applebloom should have it. They have the same eyes, those two. And the old hat that my father gave me, you should take it. I know it’s a family tradition to pass it from father to son, but I think Big Mac will be okay with it. You always looked better in that old thing, anyway. You can have my lasso, too. Remember the day at the rodeo, when you asked if you could have a lasso of your own? I hope mine will hold up for a while, it should still see a few years’ use.

Ah, you loved the rodeos. Just like your ma. You would cheer and cheer every time I went out there in that dusty field. Did you ever notice how I always tried to impress you? It’s funny, really. I acted childish, I know, but I always wanted your approval. Your smile was so comforting to me, and your laugh. Your beautiful laugh was so... calming. Most children seek attention from their parents, but you and I had that backwards. I guess I couldn’t stand the thought of you not loving me as much as I did you. Don’t worry, sweetie, I know that’s not true. I know you have more love in you than I ever did, and everypony who crosses paths with you is the luckiest pony in Equestria. I was the luckiest of them all, though, to be your father.

Now, there’s something I have to confess, and I want you to take a lesson from it. The reason why your mother and I weren’t the parents we should have been is because we were alcoholics. That hurts me to write, but it is the truth. I think you already figured it out, though. I know your brother did. We had a disease. A terrible disease. Don’t ever find solace in the bottle, dear, because it’s all a facade. It’ll do more harm than it could ever do help. We always fought, your mother and I, and it was because of our addictions. We still loved each other, though, and don’t ever think otherwise. Alcohol killed your ma, and now it’s eating away at me. I am sorry. I am so sorry. We tried to stop. We tried so hard, to quit, but we never could. Your mother and I always talked about being proud of one’s self, and this entire time we lied to you. You three were the only things we were proud of. The reason I could never meet your eyes when I drank, those beautiful emerald eyes, is because the shame was too much. You were the only thing that set me free from my prison, and that was a gift I can never repay. I can’t ask for your forgiveness. I have no right. The only thing I can think to say is that I love you. I will always love you.

I’m drifting into sleep, so I’ll have to continue this later. There are more letters to come, sugarcube, and eventually, you can have my journal. I want you to learn more about your mother and I, and this will be how I tell to you. I wish that the world gives you everything you deserve, and nothing more, because you deserve it all.

She was crying, muffling it behind swallows, as every thought she could possibly conjure awoke into a storm of grief. Tears streamed her cheeks, she was lost. Choking on breaths, unable to think. She wanted to scream, I love you, and restraining herself was a more difficult struggle than any she had encountered in all her years of labor. Behind her, creaking wood, and she jumped, turning around. Behind the door, the pony stopped. Applejack, despite not seeing her, knew that it was her Granny Smith. Thank you. She wiped her cheek.

Silence

The next letter, sitting there on her bed, just like the last. Taking a deep, shaking breath, the mare attempted to prepare herself. As she unfolded the letter, a colorful image fluttered out. Applejack saw as the photograph landed smoothly on the wool blanket, facing upward. The mare it depicted shook Applejack, a face she hadn’t seen in so long. She was lost in the eyes, which seemed to phase from orange to violet, just like Applebloom’s. And there, the red silk ribbon that held her red silk hair in place. It had been so long since she had seen her mother, and there she was, looking up at her with a wide smile. So young. She was beautiful, before the age and substance took its toll. She was beautiful.
“Hello, Ma.” She sniffled, blinking tears from her eyes as she bit her lip.
The letter read:

Dear AJ,

Do you ever watch the sunrise? There is a time, a short window of time, where the sun is just beyond the rows of trees, and the light rides across the fields, comparable only to a flood. The light is like water, swirling forth through golden tides, and drowning the blue hues of the dying night. It’s beautiful, Applejack. Your mother and I used to watch the sunrise, every morning. Do you remember? It was the last thing that held us together, that silence. And now, my sun’s setting, and all I can do is enjoy the silence.

Your mother and I loved you, and we would never, ever, do anything to harm you. I know that for a time, you thought that we had abandoned you. We never even fed you, or watched you. You thought that we didn’t love you, because we spent every hour of everyday fighting. Screaming.That’s not true, sweetheart. We loved you so much, and we always will. It was you that we fought about, after all. Don’t feel any guilt, because it’s not your fault at all, but it is true that we fought over you. Your mother wanted to send you to Manehattan, or Canterlot, to a university. I wanted to raise you on the family farm, though. She thought that I didn’t believe in you. She thought that I was holding you back. Applejack, I’m so sorry for what I am about to say, because your mother was right. I always told myself otherwise, and made excuses to your ma, but I kept you home because I wasn’t ready to let you go. You could have graduated with a degree, and lived in luxury and splendor. I denied you that. I lied to myself, every day. I said to myself that you would be happier on the farm, with your family. How could I have known? I hope, Applejack, with every bit of my will, that what I told myself is true. I love you.

I’ve been thinking about your mother, now that she’s gone. I wasted all those years, bickering in spite and in drunken rage and shame. I could have held her in my hooves, like I did when we were young. I could have loved her like she deserved, but I wasted every hour. I lost her so fast, Applejack. The days went by so fast, and now that she’s gone, time is crawling. The minute I spent with her, before she died in my hooves, was the first moment we had shared as husband and wife in years. I will cherish that moment. It makes me think, though. If your mother survived, she would have never touched the bottle again. Neither would I. We could have continued to raise you three. We could have continued to love each other, as the family we should have been. There’s only one life we get to live, darling. Don’t waste it on drinking, like we did. You’ve got two siblings and an old grandma to take care of, so you have enough to worry about. I know you’re smarter than we were, though. I know you’ll be the pony that your mother and I never could be. I know you’ll make your family proud, sugarcube.

I want to tell you about your ma, what you didn’t know. She was like you. A lot like you, actually. Tough, stubborn, and steadfast. She was a strong mare, just like you. Stronger than I ever was. Your mother wanted the best for our children. If she could have, she would have given you the world. She always wanted to help, but she could never, ever, accept anyone else’s help. She thought she could kick her liver into working again all by herself, and it was that stubborn attitude that told her she could. She was wrong. Your ma was so kind, and caring, but she would never admit it. Modest to say the least. Strange, isn’t it, how she managed to be so filled with pride and yet so modest. That false pride was the only thing that kept her sane, that kept her safe from the grief and shame. And you, of course. You and your siblings were her true pride. The pride that she didn’t lie to herself about. The pride that I didn’t lie to myself about. Be strong, love, like your mother was. Just don’t let your pride hurt you.

Another thing about your mother, before things fell apart, is that she loved to just hold you, and look into those beautiful eyes. When your older brother was born, she would cradle him and watch over him for hours and hours. She did the same to you, too. Never ever let you out of her sight. She would play with your mane, and sing to you, and you were the most precious thing to her. You still are. She would have treated Applebloom the same, if she had more than a few days to spend with her. I saw, the first time your mother looked into Applebloom’s eyes, something that I hadn’t seen in so long. I saw life, and hope. and joy.

Your mother wrote you a letter as well, which you will read soon. Maybe then you can understand her better, or maybe not. I haven’t read it, so it could say any number of things. One thing I know is that she died thinking of you, and that put a smile on her face. I don’t think you’ve ever seen her smile, not truly. It’s no wonder that the one thing that could get her to smile was you. Thank you for that, Applejack. You gave her a gift that I couldn’t all this time. We love you dear.
Pa

Applejack lowered herself to the bed, looking sternly at the picture of her mother as she choked on her tears. I love you too. All she could say. All she needed to say. The silence held her together. Silence.

From Ma

Applejack once again set the hat on its hook, observing through pools of lurid green the old, dirt stained and time weathered, brown hat. Her father’s hat. A half smile drew across her muzzle, thanks pa. She pushed open the door, stepping inside as the room creaked. And on her bed, what she feared and anticipated the most, another letter. Before approaching, she tossed a hopeful gaze to her window. The sun’s orange light that seethed through deep green grasses filled her with a sorrow laden ease. A peace that tasted of grief. She opened the letter.

Dear Applejack, my sweet daughter,

You are everything that I never could be, and I love you more than you will ever know. I have a lot to say, and not too much time to say it, as I reckon these will be my last words. It makes me so proud to think that my final moments will be spent addressing you, my darling. So listen up, kiddo.

You and your brother were everything to me. And although I will never see my dear Applebloom grow, or hold her in my hooves again, I know she will be another shining star upon the earth. Your father and I disagreed about your future constantly, but. I think most of the time we were just using that as an excuse to scream at each other. I know now that we were both so, so wrong. It doesn’t matter the slightest grain what you do, dear, as long as you want to do it. If you really want to make me happy, and proud, then do what you enjoy. That is all your father and I ever wanted, for you to enjoy life. I’m sorry that we couldn’t give you that, sugar.

There will be times in your life where you begin to see cracks forming along the edges, as everything goes wrong, and the few things that actually make sense fill you with grief and regret. That is how I lived the last few years, filled with grief and regret. Your pa and I fought every day, from sunrise to midnight. We screamed, and cried, and filled ourselves with spite and hatred that raged like a wildfire. It wasn’t spite for each other, though. We never hated each other, although that was how it appeared. It was spite for ourselves, and indeed, we hated ourselves. I admit that I asked myself, almost everyday, if I still loved your father. More than that, I asked myself if I still loved life. Even now, I’m not too sure that I have an answer to either. The one thing I know for sure is that I love you, my children. You were the only reason, and the only reason I ever needed, to live. But, I never really did live, now did I? I wasted those years in a drunken coma, and now it’s time for me to pay the debt. Each and every year I cursed and cried because things were falling apart, but just now I realized something. I was wrong. I thought that things were falling apart, but this whole time they were falling into place. You and your brother had matured, your sister had been born, and you became ready. The time has finally come for you to move on into marehood, sweetie, and it fills me with joy and pride, two things I haven’t felt in so long. Now, I’ve never really believed in destiny, but I think, that in some way, your father and I are meant to leave this life. Try and see the light in all of it, dear, something I never could do. Letting go of your pa and I is just one of the many sorrows of life that you’ll come to recognize. Don’t you ever linger on that sorrow, sugarcube. It’ll fester and sink into you, it’ll become a part of you. You’ll hate that part of yourself, and eventually, it’ll consume you. That’s what happened to your father and I, but I know you children are too brave and too smart to become what we did. You never realize that you’ve wasted your life until it’s over, trust me.

Now I’ve always been known as a fearless mare, and that’s pretty darn true. But I do share the fear that every sane parent in all of pony history shares, and that’s the fear of losing one’s children. I know, however, that the Apple family is a tough bunch, and you’re a survivor. I know you’ll all take care of each other. But there is another fear that stalks me, and it’s one that I can never be sure of. It’s one that I wish I never had to think about again. I’m afraid that you don’t love me. Don’t feel guilty, dear, I know you love me, it’s just a silly fear. But, AJ, if I could ask you one thing... did I disappoint you? I’ll never hear your answer, but I so desperately hope that I did not. Let’s not stay on the subject, dear, it makes me feel guilty, even though I probably am.

Applejack stopped, breathing. She managed to hold her intense desire to weep at bay, clenching her teeth and keeping herself from blinking her shining emerald eyes. “Of course I love you ma, I love you so much. You never disappointed me once. I love you.” She murmured to herself, every word plunging into her heart with a sorrowful regret. She didn’t know what to do, so she simply continued.

Do you remember when you were younger, how you and I would play in the orchard and I’d teach you how to buck the trees? When you finally knocked your first apple down, your face lit up like a candle, and when you took a bite you said it was the best darn thing you ever tasted. Your brother laughed, and bragged about how he could knock down dozens. So you started training, the competitive little spirit you are. That was one of the greatest days of my life, you know. I would trade away everything I’ve ever wanted if it meant I could spend another day with my family. Maybe I will, further down the road. Life has many surprises, after all. Or death, in this case. And if I don’t ever see you again, well this letter will have to suffice.

I don’t know if we ever told you this, but when your father and I were young, right after we married, we left the Apple Acres to see the world. We went from town to town, ocean to ocean, mountain to mountain. We saw every sight to see, living free on the trails, and those years were the greatest that I ever shared with him. He was such a charmer, your pa. Always knew exactly what to say, and he treated me like the princess herself. He was selfless, always acting on the needs and desires of other ponies. The pony that I fell in love with, your father, made life worth living, and boy was it worth living back then. We didn’t care where we were, so long as we had each other. He was always able to make the worst of days into the best, an ability that the alcohol took away. You know he was such an optimist back then, always smiling and sharing some wisdom about finding happiness in the least likely of places. The years turned him into a pessimist, though. He lost that innocent spark in his eye, and his smile became tainted with regret. In fact, everything about us was tainted with regret. Did you notice how we would always scream and fight, unless we were around you children? It wasn’t because we were keeping up appearances, you know. It was because you were the only things beautiful enough to cause us to stop and breath. Thank you.

I think, some time along the road, our love for each other faded out. I think I know why, too. It was because we forgot who each other were, and we forgot who ourselves were. There was only the alcohol induced words. The words that we screamed at each other, trying to inflict more damage than we received. We made weapons out of those words. Words that should have been spent on something that didn’t destroy. Something that created. I wish I could take back every one of the words, but it ain’t that easy. It never is.

I’m your mother, and your family, but I like to think that you and I are something more. I like to think that you and I are friends. A daughter doesn’t choose her mother, and so you were stuck with me, but friends do choose. I hope that you enjoyed our time together as much as I did, and that you would choose to relive it if you could, because I know I would. I think our friendship means more than anything else. It’s more than a mother’s love for her children, it’s a pony’s love for another. And I love you as one pony to another, as equals. I love you as a friend should. I love you for who you are, not because you’re my daughter, and that, to me, is worth so much more. I love you, Applejack.

I know that my hour is over. I’ll only be around for a few more moments. While I do have many regrets, and I would go back in a heartbeat if I could, I am at peace. I ain’t sad, or angry, or lonely. I’m ready to die, sweetheart, so don’t you worry. Just like in the old western stories, this mare’s tale ends on a starry night, and I sing my last song as the dusty trail ends. Well, maybe not so romantic, but it’s an end that I accept. My father used to say to me when I was young, “All good things must come to an end.” He wanted me to be prepared for whatever loss I would eventually suffer. Of course I now know that all such things end, but I also know that it can be a good end. An end that doesn’t leave a bitter taste in a pony’s mouth. I hope that the soon coming end to our friendship is one such “good” end. I lived too short a life, and I’ll never have the time that I should have spent with you back. For that I am sorry, my sweet daughter. I know you’ll forgive me, though. Because that’s one thing I wasn’t able to do, and I’m still not able to. Forgive myself.

Give my love to your siblings, kiddo. Tell them that I’ll always love them. One last thing, dear, there’s an old trunk sitting around the barn, ask your Granny Smith to dig it out for you. I want you and your siblings to look through it, I think you’ll like what’s inside.

Your loving Ma

PS. Find Big Mac a nice mare to settle down with, will ya? Or stallion, if he prefers.

The mare giggled at the joke, recognizing her mother’s mischievous sense of humor. She had never felt so sorrowful and so joyful at the same time, and it confused her. Stars formed behind the veil of dying light, drawing into view like a thousand drops of light spilled across an abyss. She watched the sky, the memory of her mother held in her mind with reverence and desire. Desire to see her again. Maybe someday.

Family

Setting down the two wooden buckets, which overflowed with ripe red apples, the orange mare admired her work harvesting the last of the western orchard. Sweat beaded through her fur under the day’s heat as she panted. The sun had still to reach its zenith, and the supply of apples from the week’s harvest was copious to a point of pride. For the Apple family, that is.

A thought struck her then, and she made to the house’s porch, where an old mare sat in a chair, rocking in the shade, and giving Applejack a warm smile. Applejack approached, returning the smile, and greeted her with a cheery “Howdy.”

“Why hello, dearie. How’s the harvest?”

“Great, Granny. Western orchard’s done, and Mac’s workin’ on the eastern. Now, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“Yes, dearie?”

“Well, you know the, uh, letters?” She cleared her throat.

“Ah, yes of course.” Granny Smith’s smile grew less enthusiastic.

“Well, it’s just that, my, well, Ma, mentioned a box...”

The pale green mare nodded, “Yes, yes. Would you like to see it?”

“I think so, and I think Apple Bloom and Mac should too.”

Her grin widened again, “Well I think that’s a cheery idea, darlin’. Fetch your siblings, I’ll go grab it.” Granny Smith rose from the walking chair planting her shaking hooves on the ground as her back cracked. She trotted off towards the barn. Applejack entered the house, into a small living room filled with old furniture and family pictures, “Apple Bloom!” She shouted, awaiting a response.

“Yeah sis?” A muffled shout from above.

“Come down here, I want you to see something.”

Seconds later the sound of hooves on creaking wood, drawing louder, as the filly trotted down the stairs. The light furred and red maned pony smiled at her sister, “What is it?”

“I’ll show you in a minute, grab Bic Mac and meet me in the barn. He’s in the eastern orchard.”

“Yes ma’am.” Apple Bloom teased, the ponies snickering.
Before Apple Bloom strode through the door, Applejack stopped her, “Apple Bloom.”

“Yeah, sis?”

“Mom and Dad would be so proud of you.” The mare’s smile was shaded with sorrow.
Apple Bloom’s expression was confused, and surprised, “Uh, thanks.” She left.
She has her mother’s eyes.

The barn’s doors ajar, sun beaming in onto the hay and dirt floor. Applejack entered through a wooden hatch in the ground, Granny Smith following, with a dusty wooden trunk balancing on her back. She tossed the truck to the packed dirt floor with a crack, and turned to the old mare. “You wanna stick around?”

“Oh, I’ve looked through that old thing enough times, I reckon.”
“Alright, Granny. And, uh, thank you for the letters. They’re really something.”

“That they are, dearie, that they are.” They exchanged amiable grins, a warmth falling over Applejack, and Granny Smith departed. Applejack opened the rusty iron latch, and the trunk creaked open, a cloud of dust rising, which she promptly swatted away, coughing.

“Heya sis!” The excited little filly exclaimed, a muscular red stallion smiling a hello besides her as he chewed a piece of wheat.

“C’mon over, let’s take a look through this trunk.”

The ponies walked over to stand either side to her, peering down into the gloom of the wooden box. The three sat down after Applejack did so, and the orange reached down, pulling out a small bundled stack of square papers. She turned the first to face them, blowing dust off.

A colorless photo depicted a young filly with large, gleaming eyes, a light coat, and hair tied up in a ribbon, looking just like Applebloom. Beside her, with a very familiar grin, was a middle aged, but beautiful mare with shining white hair in a braid.

“Oohh, who are they?” The enticed filly asked

“Why Bloom, that’d be ma and Granny.” Applejack nudged her.

“Wow, Granny was so young, and look at ma, she’s just a filly like me! And our ribbon...” Apple Bloom touched the ribbon tied in her hair, looking at the same such accessory in her mother’s hair.

“Yeah, our Granny was a real beaut, you know.” The mare looked at her brother, who’s green eyes were fixed steadily on the picture.

She shuffled to the next one, a now in-color picture of the same previous filly, now a grown, beautiful young mare, her head resting on that of a long, blonde maned stallion with a coat red like Macintosh’s, and emeral eyes just like her’s.

“Is that ma and pa?” Apple Bloom inquired, blinking up at Applejack.

A nostalgic sigh, “Yeah, yeah it is.”

“AJ...”

“Yes Bloom?”

“Ma and Pa died when I was young, right?”

“You still are young, Bloom, and yes. You were a newborn.”

Apple Bloom not-so-subtly rolled her eyes at the young remark, and continued, “Disease took them, right?”

“That’s right.” The mare responded solemnly.

“What kinda disease?”

Applejack met her sister’s eyes, large with anticipation, filled with an innocence so pure that it almost scared Applejack.

“A terrible one, Bloom. One that destroys a lot more than your health.”

“Whaddya mean by that?”

“You’ll learn one day.”

Apple Bloom frowned, frustrated, “I ain’t a child, AJ. I want to know.” She raised her voice, her tone obvious with anger.

“Bloom,” AJ sighed, “You don’t always want to know. I know you’re smart, and you can understand it, but that doesn’t mean you should understand it. It ain’t always good for you.” She turned to Macintosh for approval, who nodded.

“Fine.” Applebloom surrendered.
The next picture depicted those same ponies, this time dressed all fancy and whatnot, and a host of ponies behind them. The old Apple family house stood in the background, and those two ponies were grinning wider than Applejack thought possible. The joy in their eyes was uncharacteristic of anyone other than a certain pink mare.

“This was their wedding day, can ya believe that?”

“Wow, that’s amazing.” The filly cheered, then resumed her earlier questioning, “AJ, what were Mom and Dad like?”

“Well,” she exhaled, “that’s a more difficult question than you think, but... Dad was a lot like Granny Smith. He was a joker, and pretty silly at times. He loved to make us smile, and he never once scolded us. He was very good to us, despite what he thought. Ma was like me, actually.” She chuckled nervously. Was it getting hotter? “Stubborn, and hard working. Geez, listen to me, like one o’ them arrogant Canterlot elites.” She teased herself. “Ma always looked after us, and would readily devoured her entire life to us before she would even think about what she herself wanted. She was always there for us, and she could barely keep her hooves off you when you were born. You see, they were very difficult to each other, but it wasn’t their fault. They deserved a second chance, but life never gave it to them.”
Apple Bloom listened carefully, opening her mouth as to speak before Bic Macintosh spoke, “I miss Ma and Pa, AJ.”

“I do too, brother. I miss them a whole lot.”
Big Mac took the picture from Applejack’s hoof, examining it further as sorrow glinted in his eye.

“What’s this?” Apple Bloom said as drew out a wrinkled, folded piece of parchment from the trunk, handing it to her sister. A crinkle as the mare unfolded it.

“It’s a letter.”

“Read it sis.”

“To the love of my life,

The reason I put this in writing is because if I tried to say it to you I’d be babbling and stuttering like a fool. You are and always will remain the greatest thing that ever came across my humble path, and every hour that I breathe I think of you. I don’t believe in fate, my darling, but I cannot accept there is anyone else in all of Equestria that I can love. I cannot accept that you and I were not meant to be. Every flaw that you have makes me love you so much more, and while I honestly do not believe that I deserve you, I can never let you out of my heart and mind.” Applejack paused, drew a shaking breath, attempting to rid herself of the shaking lump in her throat. “I love you more than I love life, more than I could ever, ever love myself. I want to be with you until time stops, but until death will have to do. Will you marry me?”

“Is that how Dad proposed?” The filly asked, enthralled.

“Eeyup.” Macintosh responded, smiling so slightly.

“That’s so sweet, they were perfect.”

The mare laughed, sniffing as tears ran across her cheek.. Why did this love have to die? Why did you have to die... What she thought was kept in her mind, she realized she had said aloud. Hearing it only made it so much harder to bear, and her weeping resumed. Apple Bloom’s eyes filled with sorrow, her mouth turning to a deep frown. Suddenly Big Macintosh’s arm was around his sister’s shoulder, and her head leaned upon his, crying into his coat. He gently and repeatedly nudged her with his muzzle, comforting her.

Apple Bloom watched the two, before looking to the next picture in the stack, not knowing how to take away her sister’s burden. It was a picture of a newborn filly, Apple Bloom, with a red ribbon in her mouth. In the corner of the picture, poorly written ink, “I love you Apple Bloom”.

She never knew her parents, why did she love them? She knew she was supposed to love them, but why couldn’t she explain why she did love them. The questions confused and saddened her, and soon she was crying.

“I want to meet them, AJ. I want to hear their voice.” She cried, “I want to hug them, and play with them. Why aren’t they here? Why do all the other ponies get to love their parents, and I don’t? I want to meet them. I want to meet my parents.” She wept, her voice too shaking and too painful to continue. She continuously grew sharp breaths, releasing them as tears. Applejack pulled her up to the mare’s body, running her hoof through her hair, and Apple Bloom leaned on her, in tears.

“I love you two.” Big Mac said.

“I love you.” Applejack responded, her head still on his shoulder.

“Please don’t ever leave, ever. I love you guys too much. Don’t ever leave.” Like Ma and Pa did.

“We ain’t going nowhere, sis.”

Irony

The work tired mare, whose thoughts as of late had been utterly consumed by her parents, entered her room with a relieved sigh. She shut one eye tight, grimacing, the other peering to her bed, in fearful anticipation. Another letter, but she did not know if she could read it. She opened it, but was so afraid to continue. Swallowing a heavy embodiment of fear that hung in her throat, she read.

Dear Applejack,

I miss your mother so much. I know I’ll be joining her soon, but I cannot help but watch as all the memories of our love play like some grand masterpiece of an artist that I do not understand. I do not mean to sound cryptic, but I cannot explain what losing her is like in any terms that even I myself entirely understand. There was so much that I wanted to say to her, but there was no time. The irony is that there was so much time, so many years that I could have said that. I know that I told you to enjoy the silence, dear, but sometimes you must say what is to be said, and what follows may break you. That, perhaps, is why I didn’t say anything other than goodbye. Because I was afraid it would break me.

I wanted to tell her that I was in love again. That the soul of our unity, which died long ago, had found life again. What if she did not love me? What if the love I found for her ran a one way course? I could not bear to hear her say that she would never love me again, and even now my speculations drive me to the verge of sanity. The peace that awaits me beyond life will be enough to quell this desire to see her again, I hope so desperately. If only I could have just a moment with her, one moment to tell her that I truly love her, as I did long ago. I would have my heart broken, most likely.

I understand why ponies fear death. Why they fear the end. I didn’t want to lose her, and I don’t want to lose you. I love you. I want to be with my family again. I want to feel the sun and the wind, I want to hold you and your mother and tell you that I love you and that I will never let go. I let go, Applejack. I let go because I was not strong enough. I want to be strong enough, to hold you forever. There is no forever, is there? I’m afraid, Applejack. I miss your mother.

Those words struck Applejack’s heart with a weight so strong, forcing the lump of sorrow in her throat, and tears from her eyes. It broke her heart to read these, and she didn’t want to continue. She had to.

I would tell her, as I held her in my arms, that you loved her with all your heart and that she was the perfect mare. So perfect, and all these years I had forgotten. There is no greater reminder of what is beautiful than death, and perhaps that is the beauty that lies in death so cryptically hidden, that when you find it, the time to depart has arrived, the irony. I hate irony, I think. If your mother were here she would take my hoof, and brush her head against mine. She would take away this fear, Applejack. Your mother was so brave, so brave. I miss her so much. I want to hold her, dear. I want to hold her and she’s gone. I would endure the most horrendous and destructive of tortures for eternity to spend but a moment with my family. I love you, and don’t ever let go of that. Don’t ever let go of me, because I am not strong enough to hold on, and I would drift away, more lost than I already am.

I would look your mother in the eye, those beautiful orbs staring calmly and warmly into me, orange, the sunlight in her eyes. I would tell her that I am sorry. So sorry. The regret is burning in my chest and gut. The guilt is eating me, and I feel the humanity rotting to emptiness. I would cry, like a fool I would cry, and beg and beg for forgiveness. She would lift my chin, and tell me that everything was alright. I destroyed us. I destroyed everything I was, and now I walk into oblivion, my final resting. I do not deserve the peace that awaits me, do I? I destroyed us. I did.

I miss her so much, Applejack. I can almost feel her hooves in mine. The sun mocks me, imitating her eyes with imperfect grace. Nothing will ever compare to the love that I hold for you and my family. I wasted every year of it, and I was the most foolish and worthless pony for doing so. I love you Applejack, my angel. I love you. You are a beautiful pony, and you are everything that your mother and I ever saw in you, and so, so much more. The Apple family’s greatest mark on Equestria, and the legacy that I do not deserve at all, is my children. I love you all so much. So hold on to me, sweet daughter, until there is nothing to hold onto but my memory. I love you.

Your father

Tears, unceasing. Choking breaths, bursts of mourning grief, blurred vision behind the weeping sorrow. Applejack could not even open her eyes, she wanted to throw up. The sorrow sat in her gut, festering and crawling to every inch of her, tearing her apart like a malign force. Yet there was some strange comfort in the pain, again and again her father’s voice rang in her heart, “I love you.” Applejack tried to speak, tried to tell him that she loved, him, but choked on every breath. Her weeping did not cease, audible and torrenting tears that puddled into the wood below her as she shut her eyes tight, hoping to find solace in the temporary halt in time. Finally, as she struggled to breathe, “I love you.” Before breaking into another cry.

Final Goodbye

Applejack’s hooves creaked on the floor as she approached the staircase, tossing the old mare who was knitting in a chair a smile and nod. The clicking of needles ceased, as the white maned mare met her eyes.

“Dearie,”

“Yessum.”

“I wanted to give you this in person.” She took a letter from her lap in her hoof. “It’s the last letter your father wrote.”

She hesitated for a moment, her hoof shaking, and the mare accepted the letter. “Thank ya, Granny.” She was not enthusiastic. “I’ll take a look.”

Granny Smith nodded with a smile, resuming her knitting. As Applejack made her way up the stairs, “Applejack?”

“Yeah Granny?”

“If you ever want to talk, sweetie...”

“Thank you Granny, that means a lot to me.” Applejack smiled, comforted by her grandmother’s care. The click of needles resumed, and Applejack made to her room.

Sighing, Applejack blew a strand of hair from her face. She opened the letter, although she so greatly did not want to read it. This would be the last letter from her father, and she would miss them. She missed him. It read:

Dear AJ,

The last hour of my life is waning, and I am at peace. I know that you will do great things, my dear, and that the love that your mother and I held for you was all that we could really give, although you deserve so much more. Many ponies live their lives trying to form a legacy, trying to make a mark on the earth so that they will be remembered. I never cared for such a thing, but I ended up with the most magnificent and beautiful legacy that anypony could even dream of: you. I am so proud of you, and I love you more than you will ever know.

My life has been a complicated one ever since I met your ma. She was everything to me, and when I lost her, I indeed lost almost everything. I lost her long before she died, though. I lost her because of my own mistakes, and I dragged her into the self dug grave with me. When I wrote to you the other day I was distressed. I wanted to tell your mother so many things, and I never got that chance. Now, I don’t think any of that matters. Maybe I’m just being hopeful, but I think your ma knew how much I loved her in the end. The only thing that I wish weren’t so is that young Applebloom will never know her parents. Poor girl, she doesn’t deserve that pain. At least she as you and your brother, and your Granny. Hell, that’ll be more than enough for anypony.

You will always be the little filly that I held in my arms so long ago, and in the waning of my life all that I see is your beautiful eyes staring up at me, smiling that grin that I adore. It’s a sight that I would not trade for anything in the world. I would tell you to be strong, once I’m gone, but hell, you’re the strongest mare I ever did meet. You and your brother don’t need me to give you strength, that’s for sure. I would ask of you to take good care of your family, but I already know you’ll be everything they could ever ask for, because that’s what you were to me. So the only thing I ask of you in my parting is that you live your life better than I did.

Once, a few years back, when we playing out in a field, you told me that you were afraid of losing me. I told you that when the time finally came, you’d know it was the right thing. Now, you’re probably telling yourself that my death is unfair, unjust, and that I don’t deserve to die. I think this is a good way to go, writing to my daughter. So please don’t cry over my death for too long. You don’t deserve to suffer a loss this early in your life, I understand that, but it’s entirely my fault that I’m dying. It’s all my fault. I’m paying the price, darling, and I hope you understand that I’m doing so with a grin and with fond memories of my life. Hell, there’s a lot of not so fond memories, but I don’t need to hold onto those, and neither do you.

I love you, dear. I love you and your siblings and your ma, and nothing has ever or could ever change that. I know all this time I’ve been saying that I wasted those years, but that ain’t fair. Not a single day with you in my life is wasted, and so now I see that all those years had some light in them. Not a whole lot of light, but a light brighter than the sun. I’m watching the sunrise this very moment, as the wind in my mane grows warmer. I belong in this here country, and no hospital ponies are gonna tell me otherwise. The sun’s light is flooding gold the fields of green before me, and I bask gladly in that light. My death is the sun. My death is bright and warm, because my love is strong enough to capture my every thought and will. Remember that, my dear daughter, there’s another rise of the sun, and you don’t want to miss it. Tell your brother that he’s the greatest son that ever was born, and that I love him and I’m so proud of him and I know he’s gonna be a great stallion. Greater than I ever was. Tell your sister, Apple Bloom, that I loved her so much, and that I am so, so sorry that I couldn’t be there. Tell my ma that she was the best darn mother in Equestria, and a true hero the the Apple family. Thanks for taking care of the kids, ma. Thanks for everything.

So let this be our final goodbye, my dear. I can’t say if your ma and I will be watching over you, or anything equally hopeful. In fact, all I really know for sure is that I love my family. I think that’s enough, though. Thank you for everything, my daughter, and know that I go in peace and in joy.

I love you.

Applejack, her eyes welling with tears, drew a piece of parchment from her nightstand, followed by a quill and inkwell. She began to write.

Dear Pa,
I love you so much, and you and Ma were the most amazing parents I could ever imagine, so don’t you think otherwise. I should be mad at you for putting me to tears like this everyday, but I guess I’ll have to forgive you. I don’t care what mistakes you made. I love you, and you were so much better of a father than you think. I love you so much. Thank you for this, Pa. Thank you for everything. I wouldn’t be the mare I am if it weren’t for you and Ma. I love you.

A tear dripped onto the paper.

I’ll take care of Macintosh and Bloom, I promise. I’ll take care of the farm, and I’ll keep everything in place. We got a new addition to the family, y’know? Winona’s her name and she’s the cutest darn dog you’d ever see. Granny Smith is doing good, just as energetic and sweet as ever. I would write more, but I just realized that there’s no way I can send this to you.

Applejack laughed audibly at her realization, then sniffling as more tears fell.

So yeah, this'll be our final goodbye, unless I see you again. If I do, we have a lot to talk about Pa. I love you too.
Applejack