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Thursday, 16 October 2014

I Remember...

By Marcy Sheiner of Dirty Laundry

Many years ago I was in a feminist theater group in which one of our exercises was to riff on the phrase "I remember..." The phrase is highly evocative and is frequently used as a writing prompt these days. This morning I found myself using it.

I remember conversations with a friend about how lucky we were that, unlike our mothers, we each had rich inner resources we'd fall back on in our old age.

I remember thinking I wouldn't be like my older relatives when I was older since I wasn't like they'd been when they were younger.

I remember when my father died and I saw my mother's utter devastation, telling my therapist, "That will never happen to me."

He replied, "How do you know? You might remarry."

In retrospect, what he should've said was, "Are you hell-bent on avoiding that?" Which is what I did.

I remember being a teenager and feeling sorry for my parents - who must've been all of 45 then - because I thought their lives were at a dead-end and going nowhere.

I remember thinking 30, 40, and 50 were old.

I remember saying, "Don't trust anyone over 30."

I remember suicide fantasies.

I remember when my life seemed to be on an upward trajectory.

I remember telling my mother and my aunt, when I was in my fifties, that I understood them better because I understood aging. They laughed and told me I was still young.

I remember my contempt for my elders who saw all these things differently.

Try the exercise no matter what your age.

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[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Please read instructions for submitting.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post

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