Letter to Papa

Dear Papa,


I just finished reading your story, finally. You’re not getting a handwritten letter because I type much faster, plus now I will have an electronic copy of our correspondence, dude.

As I told you on the phone, I got into your story. I’ve read some of it a while ago (13, 14 years?) and gotten different things out of it now. I have certain books I read over and over again and depending on the stage of life the stories mean different things to me. Women Who Run With the Wolves has stories with hags and wise women and girls getting lost in the forest, and your last story had some of the themes I’m used to. I feel incredibly lucky that you write (and Mom) because it is the chance to know you on a different level.

The words in your stories are beautiful – beautiful phrases and sentences too. Some of my favorites:

“Listening to you talk to a woman is like drinking clabbered milk – it goes down in fits and makes you gag.”


…


“I want a family, Willie, I want kids, I want somebody to hold me.”


…


”Oh my god, she’s coming up. I don’t know if I like her. I don’t know if she’s that good looking. Maybe living by myself isn’t so bad.”


“I’m not interested in talking you into enjoying this. You are a real piece of work.”


.


These mindless robots of proper usage These husbanders of inconsequentia

The hospital scene made me LOL (Laugh Out Loud). “Now do you see why you can never take anything for granted in a hospital?” Hee hee.

…

He worried about the wholeness of the building because it had been built by men and even well-intentioned men sometimes make mistakes. Brian knew just how powerful the world outside the door was. He wrapped himself and went out into the night. While the women and girls, carefree and cozy, slept on, he scraped the snow from their rooflines with a long pole. Khaa! That’s the difference between men and women, children.

Excuse me??!!! Maybe it’s because I’ve spent many night hours awake with my children while my husband slept – carefree and cozy – that I take a major exception to this. Men may worry about the structure and the building and in our case, mowing the lawn, but women’s work is worrying about the emotional and physical health of the entire family, and rack up many, many sleepless nights. I’m convinced women don’t fully sleep for the first 5 years of their children’s lives, because they need to hear the coughs and cries.

But I forgive you, because then you make up for it when Brian tells the story of Claire killing the hag. I’ll let it slide.

…

So. I’ve included two of my short stories. The Toe will be published in The Sandstar Review, an online poetry and prose publication. Carrying On is the prelude to The Toe. Whenever I want to write fiction I use these two characters, Fran and Oliver, and it frees me up to be a little more creative. I’m thinking I should invent another character who is a working mom, but I fear there will be too many clichés coming out of that one.

I’ve also included vital information from the internet, in case you ever have to make the decision whether or not to drink sea water.

I am incredibly grateful to have your stories, and I look forward to reading them again when I’m forty. Sigh. The only good thing about turning forty in six years is that I will cease to be ignorant and I will become wise.

I love you,

Your eldest daughter,