Ever since my trip to the beach last January, where the dolphins appeared with their frolicking ) offering of forgiveness, it seems all that squishiness just sucked the mad (and my stories) right out of me. I know there are more stories about growing up in the Viet Nam Era with a Mom who partied hard and a Step Father who laughed off her dangerous antics. Yet, maintaining my bitterness and a good story to accompany it, doesn't make any sense after that pivotal one-year anniversary trip to the sea to say goodbye. Now the question is, can I tell a good story while feeling all warm and fuzzy with forgiveness?I doubt it, but I want to try. I want to try because there is something achingly healing about remembering. I want to keep writing because I think I have more to say, and because I certainly have more to feel, and because I think they are good stories worth telling.
It is tempting to write about what's happening now, post Go-Go, in the lives of my siblings and my father/step-father, Roger. Those might be good stories, too, but I'm guessing that's just another way to stray from digging up the ghosts of my past for the sake of exorcism and entertainment.
Stay tuned....I think there will be more to come.
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