Ell
Well-Known Member
Damn. So stupid. What was I thinking? Too many excuses. Too much procrastination, thinking there'd always be time. Now it's too late. I always thought there'd be lots of time to talk about my mother with dad. But the time never seemed right.
I did try once. I had taken him out for lunch and casually asked him what my mother was like. He answered without answering – something glib about her being the younger sister of a university friend - and I knew he didn't want to talk about it, so I didn't press the issue. Years went by and the time never seemed appropriate. We were always in the middle of family gatherings or my stepmother was present. I figured one day we'd have a chance to sit and have a heart-to-heart, but it never happened. Now he's gone and there's no one else to ask about the little details of her personality.
So I'm left with the feeling that she never existed beyond a few fading photographs. Sure, I can see the resemblance. I've been told my entire life that I look like her. And it's true; the same eyes, nose, high cheekbones. But I wonder about my personality, my interests, my likes and dislikes.
There's a weird disconnect when people talk about their mothers. How they hate them or think of them as best friends. I just have a blank, I don't know-can't relate space. Would I have liked her? Would we have been best friends? Would we have driven each other crazy with our own idiosyncrasies? It could drive me crazy thinking about the possibilities. In my idealized version of her, we would be close friends. She would always listen and understand, give advice judiciously and be a shoulder to cry on when needed. She'd understand my need for variety and change and not think I should settle down at one thing. She'd understand my predilection for going on and on about things I'm passionate about and know when to tell me to just shut up.
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That's it for now. The above is same character as in this piece.
I'd like advice/comments about voice. Which works better?
ell
I did try once. I had taken him out for lunch and casually asked him what my mother was like. He answered without answering – something glib about her being the younger sister of a university friend - and I knew he didn't want to talk about it, so I didn't press the issue. Years went by and the time never seemed appropriate. We were always in the middle of family gatherings or my stepmother was present. I figured one day we'd have a chance to sit and have a heart-to-heart, but it never happened. Now he's gone and there's no one else to ask about the little details of her personality.
So I'm left with the feeling that she never existed beyond a few fading photographs. Sure, I can see the resemblance. I've been told my entire life that I look like her. And it's true; the same eyes, nose, high cheekbones. But I wonder about my personality, my interests, my likes and dislikes.
There's a weird disconnect when people talk about their mothers. How they hate them or think of them as best friends. I just have a blank, I don't know-can't relate space. Would I have liked her? Would we have been best friends? Would we have driven each other crazy with our own idiosyncrasies? It could drive me crazy thinking about the possibilities. In my idealized version of her, we would be close friends. She would always listen and understand, give advice judiciously and be a shoulder to cry on when needed. She'd understand my need for variety and change and not think I should settle down at one thing. She'd understand my predilection for going on and on about things I'm passionate about and know when to tell me to just shut up.
----------------------------
That's it for now. The above is same character as in this piece.
I'd like advice/comments about voice. Which works better?
ell