When I received that First Line, my first thought was, "That's not a complete sentence. What am I supposed to do with this? It's only two words!" I'm quite literal when given (or giving) directions. The directions said to provide a first line, and I was entitled to an entire sentence, damn it!
A fraction of a millisecond later, I realized there are no rules. I had to ignore that critical voice and, even though my mind was blank, I had to write for ten minutes straight -- the timer was already running.
So I just typed those first two words over and over again until an image started to form. Then I ran with it.
Later, I added the quotation marks to the opening dialogue, but otherwise, this is exactly what spilled out of my head. Entirely fictitious, and something I never would've written if I had tried to write something like this.
So, if you have absolutely no inspiration, type the First Line over and over until something starts to form. Trust your genius.
Love,
Lisa
First Line: the dishes
“The dishes the dishes the dishes the dishes the dishes the
dishes the dishes.”
“Loretta, stop that!”
“What?”
“Stop skipping around and chanting like that. Mommy’s got a headache.”
“But I’m bored.
There’s nothing to do.”
“Come and help me do the dishes”
“You yelled at me.”
“I know, sweetheart.
I’m sorry.”
She was always sorry.
That’s the one thing I remember from when I was a kid. My mom was always saying “I’m sorry” to
someone for something. She had nothing
to be sorry for. It pissed me off. So mousey.
So non-committal. Helped everyone
else and never herself. No wonder I went
from bad relationship to bad relationship.
I never learned how to help myself.
Now my dishes are piled high in the sink and I’m sitting here
with prune hands because I’ve been washing dishes for an hour straight. That’s what happens when you don’t have a
dishwasher. They’re a waste of
water. Waist of water. That’s what I have. A waist full of water. Well, full of gin. Gin and tonic. Gotta lose this weight. Get down to my fighting weight.
But it’s summer.
Summer is for being lazy and drinking and doing things in water, even if
it’s only the dishes. It keeps me cool.
My mom was always cool.
Temperature cool, not style cool.
Style-wise, she was as frumpy as they came. Older than the moms of all my friends, cuz I
was the youngest and they all seemed to be the oldest, so my mom was a good 10
years older than they were.
But she never seemed to sweat. She did laundry. She cooked.
We had no air conditioning and she did all of that and still seemed to
have this sort of internal coolant system.
She was never cold in the winter and never hot in the summer. It was kinda freaky. She always had hot cocoa or lemonade,
depending upon the season, but I don’t recall ever seeing her drink any of
it. She’d call all the kids in and we’d
sit around the kitchen table, our feet dangling to varying heights depending
upon our age at the time, but always dangling and joking around and mom
hovering in the background, anticipating our needs before we even knew what we
needed.
That’s what moms are for, I guess. Anticipate your need. Girls love that. Guys hate that. It’s weird.
My sisters and I are like that now.
We always try to anticipate our friends’ needs or our husbands’ needs
before they’re spoken. It makes us feel
perceptive. My brothers on the other
hand, jeez, the worst thing you can do is to offer help. They get so pissy. It’s like you’re threatening their manhood or
somehow implying that they can’t do it themselves. They’re such babies. Why can’t men understand that we offer help
because we want to show we care?? Why can’t
they offer help to us?? Why do we always
have to ask??
But there’s plenty men and women will never understand about
each other, but so much more that we understand about our mother now. As we were going through her stuff in the
attic after the funeral, we came across the box of old letters. Apparently dad knew all about this first
husband of hers that died in Korea. She
never told any of us about it. Dated for
a year, married before he shipped out, had a wedding night and a month
together, then he was killed in combat.
All before she turned 19.
Insane. We couldn’t even wrap our
brains around the concept, let alone the era in which it all happened.
But a lot makes sense now.
Nothing could upset her cuz she’d faced the worst thing that could
happen. Well, the second-worse thing
that could happen. She never had to face
the loss of one of her children. Thank
god for that. No one should ever have to
face that. Part of me wishes she were
here for me now, because I don’t think I can face this alone, but then part of
me is glad she’s not here to face this.
Losing a child is unbearable, but watching your child lose a child…..
that would kill her.
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