I lost him long ago although it was thirty-three years later that he died. He was the sweetest of my sons until his baby brother came. A quiet child with soft blue eyes as gentle as his soul. Those eyes, his glance could melt any mother's heart no matter what mischief he got into and he got into plenty though nothing beyond naughty. At least nothing I caught him at.
All that ended when his first mistress entered his life. Her name was marajuana followed closely by cocaine and my precious boy was gone. Lost to me forever although he never ventured very far geographically. A few blocks, a few miles - infinity - unreachable - never mine again although I always knew he loved me in his own peculiar way.
He shook off the worst of the drugs I think, eventually, but my sweet, gentle boy was gone. Gone from all of us who loved him though we saw him off and on. And then, nineteen days after he turned fifty he was killed but for me my precious Johnny'd been long gone.
A Different Kind of Three-Act Structure: Writing my Main Character as a
Child, a Young Woman, and an Elderly Grandmother, an essay by Kristen Loesch
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I'm glad to be featuring Kristen Loesch here today with an essay on a
unique variation of the multi-period novel. Her second work of historical
fiction, *...
2 days ago
A sad Mother's Day muse, but so well written.
ReplyDeleteThat saddened my heart, I feel for you.
ReplyDelete