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Write about someone you admire from afar (a public figure or celebrity).
Have you ever had dejá vu (the strange sense that you’ve experienced something before)? Tell us about it.
Tell the story of a heartbreak you’ve experienced.
Write about one or both of your parents.
I went with option #6, a memoir told in the third person.
✍🏻✉️✍🏻✉️✍🏻✉️✍🏻
Her eyes swept over the familiar contents of her mother’s room.
Theirs had always been a contentious relationship; the strains softened by decades of physical distance.
Now it was over.
The 92- year-old woman had passed away peacefully, and it was time to sort through her belongings.
“I’m an orphan” seemed like a silly thought for a sexagenarian, but that was her new reality.
When her father died in 2011, she knew the next few years would be even more stressful, and so they were!Between her mother’s ailments, medical expenses and discontentment, she had experienced high levels of anxiety.
Finding the right home had been a challenge. She lived over 4100 km (2500 mi) away and therefore needed a facility with one on one, 24-hour care. Fortunately, she found such a place; a large bungalow in a lovely neighbourhood with space for six residents.
The owner and caregivers were all dedicated to the well-being of their charges, and it gave her some peace of mind. Her mother, by contrast, was miserable, and bombarded her daughter with phone calls, complaining about every little thing.
The street was too noisy; the food was terrible, she couldn’t go out when she wanted, etc. It was only in the last two years, bedridden and suffering from dementia, that the old woman became appreciative.
Feeling a mixture of relief and sorrow, she opened the first drawer.
Damn that packrat mentality! Her mother kept everything, from old receipts to newspaper articles.
Cleaning out the house had been a nightmare, but this would surely be easier. After all, it was only one dresser and a closet.
Among the useless flotsam were several documents of historical and sentimental value; birth, death and marriage certificates, report cards, even her old baby shoes!
Best of all, she was delighted to find a large box of family photos, many she hadn’t seen before, going back to the 1920s.
Once again, she was keenly aware that everyone except her was gone. Who would go through her belongings when the time came? There were no children to pass things on to.
Her task completed, she checked the drawers one last time. Something was jammed in the back of the middle one. It was a letter from her father, dated Dec. 31, 1960, addressed to her mother!
“In view of yesterday and also the several times in recent days I have spoiled things through drinking, I hereby pledge to you, in writing, that I shall from this day forward not touch alcohol again. This pledge is given so that you may have a better chance for a happy life and so that I will not lose my self-respect.”
Stunned and tearful, she read it again, flashbacks cascading over her like giant angry waves. All of those ruined weekends and holidays; a little girl cowering in the corner as her parents reviled one another!
If only this letter had fulfilled its promise! Yes, there had been peace for a few months, but chaos inevitably returned, over and over again. It was not until 1987, after a serious accident, that her father took his last drink.
Her parents had separated several years before, and this brought them back together. He spent five months in the hospital and rehab to regain the use of his shattered right leg. During that time, he swore off alcohol and cigarettes.
To his credit, her father’s resolve never wavered, and life became more pleasant than it had been in decades. Not that her mother was ever truly content. A perfectionist mindset prevented that. There was always cause for complaint!
She shook off the bitter memories, folded the letter and added it to the “keep” pile. Why did she want to hold on to this reminder of her dysfunctional childhood? To drive home the point that she had overcome her disadvantages?
Or could it be a compassionate connection to her late mother, whom she hadn’t felt close to in decades? The answer eludes her.
Dog Mom and (retired) Canine Innkeeper in suburban Toronto, Canada, known as The Doglady. Former corporate workaholic. Writer, photographer, digital creator. Animal lover, music fanatic, inveterate traveller. Eternal hippie/rockchick. History, literature and cinema buff. Hockey and soccer fan. Dedicated night owl. German/Canadian binational, multilingual. Let me entertain you!
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20 thoughts on “THE LETTER ✍🏻✉️ #WritersWorkshop #Memoir #Creative Writing 💻”
So good, Debbie. That’s quite a letter. It’s too bad it didn’t stick the first time. Living with an alcoholic would be very rough on a little girl and her mother.
I thoroughly enjoyed this Debbie. Oddly enough, I dug back into an old post of mine, parental-based, and let the memories fly.
Answers, for me, are also elusive. I am determined to leave so much better for my children when my day comes than what my mother left. The emptiness of bags stuffed in closet corners and notes placed between the pages of unread books leave a lifetime of questions.
Wow, that letter post was well written, lots of emotion. Sad to get old, to have loved ones pass on, to have to process old memories. Well done Debbie.
Thank you, Thomas. Everything happened exactly as documented. I chose the third person POV to allow for some emotional distance. It wasn’t easy to write, but definitely cathartic, in the end.
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20 thoughts on “THE LETTER ✍🏻✉️ #WritersWorkshop #Memoir #Creative Writing 💻”
So good, Debbie. That’s quite a letter. It’s too bad it didn’t stick the first time. Living with an alcoholic would be very rough on a little girl and her mother.
Love,
Janie
Thank you, Janie! 💖 Most addicts make a lot of empty promises. It was a rough childhood, no question.
I thoroughly enjoyed this Debbie. Oddly enough, I dug back into an old post of mine, parental-based, and let the memories fly.
Answers, for me, are also elusive. I am determined to leave so much better for my children when my day comes than what my mother left. The emptiness of bags stuffed in closet corners and notes placed between the pages of unread books leave a lifetime of questions.
Thank you, Patty! 🙂 Yes, I read your post and was moved by it. 💖 You seem to have had a rough time as well and I sympathize.
A well-written, heartfelt, and poignant story, Debbie. 💖
Thank you so much, Eugi! 💖
Wow, that letter post was well written, lots of emotion. Sad to get old, to have loved ones pass on, to have to process old memories. Well done Debbie.
Thank you, Donna! 💖 I resorted to third person POV to keep my emotions in check. Difficult to write, but cathartic in the end.
Well written, poignant and heartfelt Deb. <3
Thank you, Deb! 💖 It was difficult to write, but cathartic, in the end.
No doubts! 🙂
That was a sad but very poignant and beautifully written story. I assume it was part of your childhood.
Thank you, Thomas. Everything happened exactly as documented. I chose the third person POV to allow for some emotional distance. It wasn’t easy to write, but definitely cathartic, in the end.
I can understand that was not easy to write but it is great that you did.
Very moving Debbie ♥
Thank you, Sally. 💖 It was difficult to write, but the third person POV made it easier.
Very well told. A lot of food for thought for all of us in your words.
Arlee Bird
Tossing It Out
Thank you, Arlee. 🙂
Excellent story, despite the ugliness and hurt that went into its creation!
Thank you, John. 🙂 Writing about it was an excellent release.