Week 6 Prompt

 


Read the two memoirs below (one print/one blog post). In the community blog, analyze the two stories and address the following: 

1). A good memoir draws in a reader, so he or she can discover something new. Can you "see" yourself in either of these stories? If so, what?; If not, why?

2). Do these writers over tell their stories? Do they tell or show? Address the description and visualization? Do you need more details?

3). Do you get a sense of truth-telling in these two stories?


She drove off in the middle of the night, out into a massive rain storm nonetheless, without even saying goodbye. It was like watching someone take off on a sail boat going out into the Atlantic, not knowing if you would ever see them again. Two good years were washed away that evening, and for what I still do not really know. For two years she had lived with us and made herself right at home. She was like the older sister that I never had. Someone to lean on and confide in when the times got tough. Not only that, but she was always fun to be around. Most of the memories from those two years are filled with laughter. But it all went downhill in the blink of an eye. I said things...she said things. Maybe we just got sick of one another. But there was no meaning behind it. Believe me, if I could go back and change the tail-end of those two years, I would do it in a heartbeat. And the way she left, without a hug or a "thank you for allowing me to stay." The whole thing just made me feel empty. Left wondering if this would ever be patched up.

1,300 miles sat between us for a few years, until she returned to Michigan. She had stopped into town for a few hours and the family grabbed dinner. It was one of those somewhat awkward dinners. Seeing someone that you haven't seen in so long, but feeling compelled to pull a conversation out of thin air as if not a day had gone by. I chose my words carefully. Probably the best thing to do, I wouldn't want to leave on a bitter note once again. Everyone hesitated to say goodbye, grasping at each word, trying to make the last little bit of conversation extend onward.

I began walking over to my car as she began walking over to hers. I turned back and met her halfway for a hug. We walked off and opened our car doors. But in this moment something happened. Something that never happened to be before or since that day. We both looked right at each other, and I mean really looked at each other. You know when you get that feeling as if someone is looking into your soul? Yeah, it was that type of look. In that moment we both said sorry, without so much as muttering a single sound. I think we said much more than that as well. Sorry...for everything that happened in those last couple of months when we lived together. It was as if she was saying..."I shouldn't have left like that, it wasn't fair to do that to you." And my eyes portrayed the thought of..."I am a fool for letting you leave like that. I should have never let my cousin leave in the middle of the night, off into a rain storm that was sure to obstruct the 1,300 mile journey that laid before her."

That is what we said without really ever saying anything. She understood it, and so did I.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Week 6: Analyzing Memoirs

  Growing up in Therapy      In Lena Dunham's memoir, Growing up in Therapy, she paints a very thorough and detailed picture from the start. Her description of herself as a little girl dealing with so much fear and anxiety really struck home and drew me in. I can very easily see myself within Dunham in this piece. I am an extremely anxious person and I've been called a hypochondriac by many people over the years. I understand her fears, that feeling of dread that some illness or germ is sneaking up on you at all times. To this day I still assume the worst when I have what seems like an ordinary symptom to anyone else last more than a day or so. For example, if I have a headache for a few days, I will quickly feel the urge to google symptoms of brain cancer or meningitis or whatever worse case scenario that could explain away something as simple as a few headaches. I understand that never-ending fear of the world around you. This allowed me to better understand that I...
Read more

Week 3: Enjoy When I'm Gone

Image
   This weeks prompt is a good one. To burn the journal or not to, that is the question. In my eyes once you pass on and all the stress and anxiety from a person judging you is gone, you can be free. You no longer have to stick around trying to maintain a level of respect or compromise who you are to please others. Once your dead and gone you are freed from that aspect of life. Who cares what people think of you once your gone? Have at it for all I care. What I do want to be left behind is who I am through the eyes of the one who lived it. I want people to get the words from the horses mouth. When its my time to leave this earth, I want all my journals and diaries to be available to family and friends.    It took some brain storming to get to this concussion. People have some valid reasoning to keep their privacy or to let the people get a piece of them. As a person who is naturally curious about others and their lived experience, I think its only right to let people...
Read more