my father's daughter : part i
Used to be an investigative reporter. These days I think he is an editor. And he has always been a gambler. But we do not talk much. He does not like women. He considers communication with the feminine species mostly war or rescue. Or seduction. And anything outside of that sort of does not work for him.
This makes it difficult to talk to a daughter.
What he used to do instead is send me obituaries. He worked for a paper and when someone he knew died he stepped in and wrote the obit. They were as far as obtis go pretty good obits I guess. I do not read lots of obits — okay I do not read any obits — so am not sure. But they had lots of detail. Then he would mail them to me.
No letter. Just an obit in an envelope. About someone I never met or heard of. Who was dead.
to be continued
my father’s daughter : part i
my father’s daughter : part ii
my father’s daughter : part iii
where the art work comes by :
that is self embrace by len steckler
23 Responses to my father’s daughter : part i
Did you never ask why there was no letter?
If this is fiction it’s a brilliant start, because it grips the reader.
Thank you Winslie.
Is it not brilliant if it is not fiction?
[Hey I so live for double negatives shut up.]
It’s BOGOFF (buy one get one free), double negatives that is.
If not fiction: Well different and a bit weird, but there must be a good reason. Intriguing though..
Have shut up now!
I had to write a memorial blurb once, the wife told me to write whatever I wanted because she had no plans to be at the service.
In fact, she says, she hated the guy.
Then she paid up,and left me to write the blurb that went into the memorial program.
All I could think of to write on the form at that exact moment was that line from Stephen King’s Pet Semetary… carved on the gravemarker of some kid’s pet was something like
” Here lies Skippy he was obedient ”
What does it say about me that I never even considered that it might be fiction? I have taken up the reading of obits in the last year. I find them soothing, except when they don’t reveal the cause of death. That drives me batty. I like to look at who these people leave behind. “No wife, no kids, survived by his parents? Well then, if I just stay married, pay a little attention to my kids and can avoid moving back in with my parents, I can’t possibly die at 52.” Yup, that’s what passes for logic in my world..
Obits intrigue me. One I read once said… “leaving behind two dogs, a cat and a bird named Jasper”.
I always thought to myself, well the two dogs, cat and bird didn’t write the obit, so whoever did, never felt left behind I guess.
Max didn’t you mention this before? Is this an old post? I am not sure if I am imagining read this before or not.
It could be I have said something about my father before.
Somewhere fathers talk to daughters and the conversation meanders easily from point to point. I like to go there…
but I never can.
Well I have two fathers and the second father I can talk to so it works out.
Pingback: my father’s daughter : part ii « celluloid blonde
Thank God for second parents. I really like my stepmom and stepdad.
From A Stepmom who became an Adoptive Mom…hugs to Max and Stiletto- kids like you made the trip an easy one.
My dad called me once and I said who died and he said your cousin….
I used to want to talk to my dad. That desire left me in the most quiet and peaceful way. Just seems like your family is missing out on so much good Max.
There is family you are born to. And then there is the family you build in the world. You do not get much choice over whom you are born to. But you get a lot of choice over the family you build in the world. It works out.
It really does Max…
When I met my husband he was a single dad raising three kids- and after we got married the issue of having ‘having your own ‘ came up ( Man, I’d never say something like that…but that’s how it was phrased )
But you know what?
Things were great the way they were…I mean, it worked and we were happy so it stayed that way.
Pingback: my father’s daughter : part iii « celluloid blonde
Really nifty story, double points for being real. It sounds like the beginning to a Thomas Ligotti story, actually, only hopefully this won’t end with you off in an alternative dimension of carnivorous, orgiastic blossoms.
“hopefully this won’t end with you off in an alternative dimension of carnivorous, orgiastic blossoms”
Don’t all stories end that way?
Only the good ones ;-)
You’re welcome AMM. I’m sure you’re a wonderful mother to them.
(Just don’t feed them too many scary stories)!