dotfrank wrote:
And when I do, everyone will believe I made it up. Let me tell all of you this. Y'all are ALL right about Liz. Here's what's remarkable about being a writer - well, one of the things that blows my mind anyway - since all the characters come out of my head, there's a piece of me in all of them. I was once very naive like Liz - not abused, thankfully. Part of me has been lonely like Miriam when I was living alone in Manhattan and struggling to pay my bills and dumped by my first husband. And part of me is Miss Josie who wants to tell everyone how to fix their lives without cramming it down their throat. My mother died from a melanoma and I guess I am always trying to come to terms with that. And because my father died in front of me at 4 1/2 years old and I then had the bad joss to discover my stepfather's dead body at 17 and then buried my second step father at 26, I had man issues for a long time - that they are gonna leave you so don't get too attached. So writing is great therapy but I also know it carries a responsibility, well, many of them. Beyond the obvious, which is to deliver a saleable, readable book to my publisher on time, I owe my readers entertainment but perhaps more importantly, something to think about. My greatest wish is that my stories make us all more understanding and tolerant of each other but that we also learn to forgive ourselves for the really stupid things we do, pick up the pieces and move on.
Dot,
Wow, you went through a lot of fathers, and too many to death. I had 5, none were my real father, so I guess 6. The one I really liked died at 57, only 7 years after entering my family and I mourn him most. I met my real father at 16 and it was like coming home for the first time! We really hit it off but we lived states away so only got to see him off and on Then later, when I was older and we kept in touch by phone and would meet each other when we could and where we could, I became ill, he became ill, I couldn't get in touch with him, he was gravely ill and couldn't get in touch with anyone but told his wife to call me. His phone number didn't work anymore and my letters came back saying no such address. Finally, I went through my connections in the phone company, only to find out, the only reason I couldn't get through was that he had lived out in the country and was on a rural route and that area had grown up so much, they had a new AREA CODE so his phone number didn't work with the area code I had. WHO would have thought of that, not even the operators or information did. Also, they changed the route numbers to street names so my mail was coming back but he had lived in the same place. I was able to find out the real number and talked to my stepmother (by now it had been two years since I had talked to him) and she told me he DIED a year and a half before that! I then was able to track down a half brother I had only met once but he liked me and he told me that my stepmother (his stepmother too) had told him that when my dad had asked her to call me because he was dying and fast and in a horrible way, from Lou Gehrig's disease (mind stays totally intact, but all the muscles in the body die till you cant move, or talk to the people you are watching or finally breath), he said that she told him she did call me but that I said I didn't want to come!
Now I had talked to her once early in that two year period, thinking my dad was out on the truck somewhere, when I was sick and before caller ID to notice a difference in phone #s, and she never even said anything was wrong with him so I could come see him or that I needed to start calling or writing anywhere different. So my dad died thinking I didn't want to see him.
I know he knows different now, but that hurt almost more than losing him did. For that, I find it hard to forgive her. My stepmother and her whole family told me I was just the bastard child anyway and I didn't belong, that they were nice because they had to be in front of him all those years and it was time for me to leave them alone. My one half brother who was not her son either and liked me, told me Vivian, if I had known she didnt tell you, I would have found a way to get in touch with you myself, Dad wanted to see you and I know why she did it. She had all us barred from his room (he was in the hospital she worked in as an RN) other than her kids and brought in a lawyer and changed his will. She didnt want you in the will and I know dad had you heavily in it. I said I dont care about a darn will and they could have had it all anyway, I just wanted a dad, my dad. I said did you get his gun collection, he told me once he wanted you to have those, you were his eldest son. He said, no, I was not in the will, I don't think dad cared too much for me but I understand. I said your wrong James, I know you two didn't talk very much, he never said why, but he talked to me about you a lot. He loved you and his collection was his Texas prized possession that he wanted you to have. He said really? Dad talked about me? I said I am not kidding at all, and it was true. I said who got his guns? He said the stepmother's drunken son who then sold them. I told James that it was up to him if he wanted to contest the will because he had grounds, given Dad's state at the end. I said, I just dont have a place there, I dont want anything from them. They already took it, time with my dad and his last wish with me.When I date, I dont look for men that are older, or a father figure. Actually, older men all look like prospective stepfathers LOL, even tho I am getting older too. I like the ones that are a little younger actually
. But not in a mood for any of them these days so spend more girlfriend time. It was a couple of new online girlfriends who told me about your books and talked me into trying this one and I told one of my best friends about it too so we all came in . Good book Dot, I enjoyed it a lot and will be reading the others.I thank you too for sharing a bit of yourself in this post. Everyone wonders how much of certain characters are in an author or those around them and this part, I will probably keep to put in my book, since I am not close enough to you to get an autograph!
p.s. check your little mail box up at the right again please.
vivico1 wrote:
So my dad died thinking I didn't want to see him.
Viv,
So sorry for the loss of your father and what your stepmother did to you. I don't know if I could ever forgive that. I am glad that you did get to meet your father and have some time with him. I'm also glad that it led to meeting your half-brother. The two of you were able to share the truth with each other about your dad's feelings. I hope that was a comfort and that you will continue to have a good relationship with him.
Wrighty wrote:
vivico1 wrote:
So my dad died thinking I didn't want to see him.
Viv,
So sorry for the loss of your father and what your stepmother did to you. I don't know if I could ever forgive that. I am glad that you did get to meet your father and have some time with him. I'm also glad that it led to meeting your half-brother. The two of you were able to share the truth with each other about your dad's feelings. I hope that was a comfort and that you will continue to have a good relationship with him.
My half brother, my dad's son was almost old enough to be my father. He died not long after I had talked to him, of congestive heart failure at a pretty young age actually,mid 50s I think because he would be like 66 now. My dad was 12 years older than my mom and she was 28 when she had me, I was her last. WOW, my dad would be 90 if he were alive today! My younger half brother that I met down there when he was 10, the son of my father and this stepmother, a little boy who when I looked at him, I finally saw another kid that looked like me when i was that age, (the ones i grew up with didnt), died at 25, 15 years ago in a car wreck on christmas day. I have no contact with anyone else down there in Texas anymore. But thank you and yes, James did get to hear that his dad did love and think about him and my faith makes me know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my dad knows I love him too and just didnt know back then or I would have come. The thing about losing loved ones to death for me, is not that they are gone forever or dont exist anymore, its about mourning time without them now, going through this life without them now. We will meet again, but yes, I mourn time.
