Alright. I'm starting somewhere because a) the first sentence popped into my head this morning while I was washing my face, b) putting it here means I'll have a place to find it when I need to continue and c) I haven't written in awhile and I have to write something. It's a shame to have a blog collecting e-dust. Plus putting it out there as the words hit the page makes it harder for me to sabotage myself or talk myself out of continuing; at least one of you is bound to hold me accountable. For some time now I've been outlining a collection of stories about myself and my family. I use the word outline loosely. Mostly I just have little sketches of people swirling in my head, but as you well know, I've some characters in my family and it's been a dream of mine to put us all on paper if for no other reason that to know that at least one of us talked about ourselves instead of lettin' someone else dig all the dirt.
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I remember the first time I saw my parents as people. They were standing in their bedroom - really mama's room - and they were holding each other. Mama gulped that last warbling breath before the sobs took over. She tried to speak but the tears took her words, and with a tenderness I'd never noticed, Daddy folded her into his arms and tucked her head upon his shoulder. I stood there watching them in the doorway and saw them for what they were - just two people holding on. I walked away.
These were his final moments of freedom. My sister, brother-in-law and I waited in the living room sighing, refusing to make any eye contact, fidgeting, watching the clock as it ticked away final moments. The sadness was just beginning.
