I’m participating in a public reading on Zoom, Wednesday July 19, starting at 5 PM. I’ll read an essay titled, “I Was Lucky,” part of my story of growing up in the shadow of childhood loss. I’d love to have an audience of friends and acquaintances and readers of my blog. I’ll send out the Zoom link in a group email in a few days. To get the Zoom link, enter your email into the Email Update form on the left side of this page, which will also let you receive occasional short pieces of my writing. Thank you! Note:…
The scenarios I thought I confronted were:
1) Be erased by meeting the standards of a universe in which I can’t exist; or
2) Resist and prevent rites of passage that can neither be resisted nor prevented.
The “Fran” character in my memoir goes from being a secure little girl whose boisterous, tomboy personality shines, to feeling as lost and frail as an abandoned baby animal, then through a meandering path of uncertain steps until she recognizes herself again as the smart, outspoken girl she was meant to be.
We have to accept that we are creatures with limited time, and that sometimes we are subject to disappointment and there’s no way around it. Which means we have to be patient. On the positive side, we get to set the priorities that make us feel like our real self, and being patient feels good. The implications Burkeman lays out grow bigger with each chapter.
My mom had shown me over and over again that it was my own responsibility not to be bored when there were so many things I could do alone, such as read or draw or talk with her, write in my journal, or write a letter to my aunt.
I’d say the message I took in, about how to handle my loss and my new life, was “Soldier on.” The future was obscured by worry. I couldn’t afford to give in to unpleasant emotions because I thought they would churn me like a tsunami wave and never stop.
I met Colleen at Dani’s house, when I showed up to find them drawing at Dani’s dining room table. Hunched and curled lefthandedly over a sketch pad, Colleen turned only her head to gaze straight at me for a moment, unsmiling, as I sat down.