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Memoir or Autobiography?

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Some folks assume that writing a memoir or autobiography serves as a catharsis.  Not always so.

With the impetus of Nanowrimo, I wrote in earnest, every day for thirty days.  My earliest memories took me from perhaps 3 years of age until about 11 or 12 years old.  Was it cathartic?  Hardly.

There are those folks who write about their experiences to heal themselves, to expose themselves, to shock, stimulate or educate or simply to gain notoriety.  My reasons?

Partly, I would like to educate, to show that some children are capable of deep thought, are deeply sensitive and have the potential to become great healers or scientists or anything of their choosing, given the love and guidance required.

Further, looking through the eyes of a child, through that child’s point of view, or thought process gives pause to the question of nature versus nurture.  How does a child come through unscathed in the face of adversity?  How does another child come through damaged, broken?

I believe that to see the world through my eyes as a child is to learn what that, or any child thinks, how she thinks and what she was capable of.  Or not.

Writing the first draft was quite challenging.  I resisted editing as well as speaking in adult terms, with my own commentary as an adult.  I found it difficult at first to keep within my own challenge to BE the child that resides within me.

The thoughts of a child in any situation are mostly unknown.  We can all look AT our childhood experiences.  Delving more deeply into the thoughts seemed more elusive.  We have to become the child again and so the past and present meld into one.

Children don’t have the language or freedom to expose themselves fully.  Living through the experiences again, complete with thoughts, is a rare glimpse into an adult’s mind. Savvy or otherwise, adults wouldn’t have the time and shouldn’t have the inclination to expose themselves and every thought.

Quantum physicists believe that the past, present, and future all exist at once.  Though I haven’t fully grasped the concept of the future existing as I write these words – perhaps a cursory look at the idea will bring understanding – certainly I can say that writing from the perspective of the child I was and being in the present, (now past) while doing so, the past and present do exist at once.

Writing a memoir, or, a work from a specific part of one’s life seems more relevant. A work on a whole life is impossible as a whole life would include a death or the end of life.  Logically then, no once can write an autobiography as one’s death would have to be included.

I’ve let the first draft simmer for nearly a month.  I’m ready to move into a review and rewrite.  The teen years are speaking to me and my list of prompts grows every day.

Why did I write?  I had to.

Who will read?  You.  Me.  Someone.

Going to be with God

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My son has lost his wife, Sheila.  Their child has lost her mother.

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After a long and complicated illness of uncertain origin, Sheila has passed and as in the image above, she has left this world for another.

As Roman Catholic, they held a funeral and mass, followed by cremation, with all members of the family attending.  My son, grieving, mourning.

I can’t be there – they are a long way from Crescent City.

Sheila was a Peruvian citizen, as is Lucia.

Strangely, Sheila lost her mother at an early age, and Lucia suffers the same fate.

 My son, a strong father and respected family member,

will continue parenting, loving, nurturing.

Together, they had hoped for a simple life in Cuzco.

The hope should not wane.

  Perhaps I am there, with them.

We are ONE, after all.

Flip Side!

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Darylann, 1959, Cambridge, Massachusetts

Time to come back and get back to writing.  It seems that the more research I do, the more I have to write about.

I’ve been digging so much, my shovel is worn out.

It’s been two or three months and my posts are few and far between.  Like that idiom?

Heading to the beach today, only expecting an inch or less of rain.  It’s been raining for over a week!

Two days ago, the gauge showed four inches in twenty-four hours!

Lots to share.

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday with your families, friends, pets.

Please do something nice for someone else, every chance you get.  Once it’s gone, it’s gone.

And don’t forget to look at our beautiful world and all that it holds.

Love and Peace –

Darylann

Fortunate – or – Un-fortune-ate.

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My girl and I went to Eureka again.  Road work – do I care?

I didn’t care.  This is what I saw while we waited.

Next time I see a Red Elderberry shrub, I’m getting a few pieces to start my own bushes.  😀

From the car window – Red Elderberry

And to the right, is this view.  Who would care if there was road work?  It was cool enough to wear a sweater all day.  I wasn’t the only one taking pictures.

Trees, moss, fog

Went out for Sushi, there’s a great place in Eureka.  My girl held the cookies in her hand and asked me to choose one.  OOPS.  She cracked one.  I chose the cracked one and this is what I got –

a very unfortunate cookie.

Was this an omen?  Or a stroke of good luck?  I say “YES!”  😀

On the way back from our trip, we stopped and looked at the huge herd of Roosevelt Elk.  The bulls hung together, further from the 101.

Beautiful males

Yes, I am THAT CLOSE!!

The cows seemed a little red on their backsides and there were lots of little ones, so in my infinite genius, I figure they’d recently given birth. These cows are big animals!  Any of these females weighs quite a bit more and are taller than my 10.2 hands Shetland Pony.

What a beautiful fortunate and unfortunate day!

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