I’m baaaaack! Surprised? Yeah, me, too!
I haven’t participated in Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers challenge in quite a while.
So I’m going to jump in with a thoroughly depressing little ditty.
You can hardly blame ME. The photo prompt is of a graveyard. I mean, really!
At least my entry falls below the 100-word limit (93 words). I had a death word dearth. You’re welcome.
Photo prompt courtesy of J Hardy Carroll. Thanks for the perfect Veteran’s Day tribute photo!
Mommy Said So
“Daddy died too soon if you ask me.”
“Not soon enough,” Mommy said to herself.
But I heard.
“That man was trouble six ways to Sunday. Left us high and dry.”
Mommy confused me sometimes. Daddy probably figured dying was easier than living. Now my Daddy’s somewhere in the dirt, while I’m up here trying not to mess up my white dress because Mommy hates messes. Daddy’s dirty; I’m clean. Mommy said so.
“Where’d Daddy go? I mean really go?”
“He’s just gone.”
“Can I still be his little girl?”
Mommy won’t say.
*****
This story is memoir-ish. I suppose that is both linguistically atrocious and also incorrect. My father (who served in the army, but was dishonorably discharged due to the “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy back in the late 1950’s) killed himself when I was four. I was not permitted to attend his funeral. Indeed, I didn’t know what happened to him until I was much older. So, as a little girl, I couldn’t have had these thoughts at his grave. My mother never had a harsh thing to say about my father–she rarely mentioned him. The part about a father who killed himself is true (memoir); the part about a little girl who understood is fanciful but based on truth (memoir-ish or fiction).
Okay, enough of this uplifting chit-chat.
Don’t know about you, but I’m ready for the train to Happyville. All Aboard!
Lorna's Voice 
Dec 02, 2015 @ 17:08:52
My novel, Never Turn Back, is not humorous. And I’ve got an idea for a thriller. It definitely will be dramatic. But I’m also drafting out a series of children’s books that are funny…a little of both live inside me and like to make an appearance.
Dec 02, 2015 @ 13:01:05
Very strong, especially knowing where it came from. Have you ever thought of writing drama vs. “humor?”
Nov 19, 2015 @ 13:29:04
Let’s see!
Nov 19, 2015 @ 13:23:49
Oh yes, I remember that one. We got away from Newman, right?
Nov 19, 2015 @ 09:39:58
How many more comments can we make before it shrinks us down to one letter per column?
Nov 19, 2015 @ 09:39:00
Absolutely! That’s the one where George and Elaine played us.
Nov 19, 2015 @ 09:28:25
I think I saw that happen in an episode of “Criminal Minds” or “Seinfeld.” One of them…
Nov 18, 2015 @ 08:53:36
Actually, I think it’s everyone else that should be worried. Is it possible to take out a restraining order on two people you don’t know on separate coasts?
Nov 17, 2015 @ 15:44:24
Blushing!
Nov 17, 2015 @ 15:44:06
Always! Well, as much as a dizzy blonde can! 😉
Nov 17, 2015 @ 15:43:33
Do you realize, Al, that we have imagined ourselves cooped up together in jail and in a mental hospital? Are you worried about us yet? 😉
Nov 17, 2015 @ 15:38:48
High compliments coming from you, Olga. Thanks so much. Every experience is valuable, even if it doesn’t feel like it is at the time, right?
Nov 17, 2015 @ 15:37:49
Thanks so much Ruby. If you read my memoir, you’ll find that I regret nothing that happened in my life–even my father’s suicide. He was a deeply troubled man and would have probably caused us much pain had he lived.
Nov 17, 2015 @ 15:36:28
Yes, I agree. My mom didn’t say much about my father. It’s as if he never existed (as far as I can remember). But I’m sure if I asked questions, she always said something nice. I never had a bad impression of him. 🙂
Nov 17, 2015 @ 05:07:45
Well-written story, Lorna. The remaining parent needs to say something positive to a child about the parent that has died. It’s so comforting. They may be hurting also, but the child needs to come first in that instance. Well done. — Suzanne
Nov 16, 2015 @ 17:35:29
Sorry for your loss.
And your memoirish fiction is gripping and touching
Nov 16, 2015 @ 09:48:01
Short but pulls no punches and it’s the more effective for being told by a child who doesn’t understand the meaning of the words. Sorry to hear about your experience.
Nov 16, 2015 @ 06:06:42
Amen, dear friend. Your words are a perfect account of all who suffer through a tragedy or attempted tragedy. No one can imagine the chills that creep into your life from time to time from the thoughts that one recalls. Someday, the stigma will disappear; perhaps, when more is research is done or when dialog is opened up. Have a fantastic week ..!!!
Nov 15, 2015 @ 15:34:54
Me, too. I enjoy your stories.
Nov 15, 2015 @ 13:54:02
Can you imagine the fun we’d have together in the looney bin? It would be called “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest – The Sequel!”
Nov 15, 2015 @ 13:30:18
No, don’t do it! Keep yourself steady.
Nov 15, 2015 @ 13:10:54
Me? You’re blog is one of my favs.
Nov 15, 2015 @ 13:06:13
Probably only the really good ones!
Nov 15, 2015 @ 13:05:35
Will you come visit me in the looney bin, er um, mental wellness facility?
Nov 15, 2015 @ 13:04:38
I know what you mean–and it doesn’t seem harsh at all. I’ll look for your answers and get cracking… 🙂
Nov 15, 2015 @ 13:02:42
You know, From what I know about my dad’s crew members and what they went through in the Stalag and after (mental health), perhaps my father was the luckier one. Rather harsh, I know. Guess that’s my dark side.
Just sent my questions/answers back to you!
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:48:40
Yeah, the military isn’t known for their sensitivity toward anything! And I’m glad you like that I have a dark side! 🙂
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:48:18
All the better. You’d finally get to know him!
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:46:55
Some people did manage to write a humorous story about the graveyard. My melodramatic muse wasn’t having any of that, though… 😉
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:45:57
Thanks, Jenn. It’s hard to write about something that is kind of true…
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:45:19
Yes, that is the tragedy. He never got to know us and we never got to know him. I’ve always wondered if our love would have been enough for him or if, had he lived, would he have hurt us with his destructive ways. I’ll never know, so I try not to think about it (well, only when I write about him).
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:42:57
Being one of the family members of anyone who attempts or succeeds at suicide, it’s so hard not to place yourself in the center and accept blame. I did. You do. My mom still does. I suppose that is the enduring damage that suicide does that few recognize or discuss.
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:38:32
Beautifully said. Thanks!
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:38:00
I agree. That train to Happyville is taking it’s sweet time getting here!
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:37:15
Thanks, Pat. I’m honored. That means so much coming from such an accomplished writer/reviewer as you!
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:35:42
Thanks! I know enough to attempt a story from his POV, but…wow. My major fear is that he would start writing through me! I’m sure it would be an interesting process, but could I take the emotional charge of his pain?
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:33:38
Wow! Thanks so much! I’m blushing. 🙂
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:31:48
Thanks, Al. But what if I try this and my dad starts writing through me? It could happen.
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:30:44
Thanks so much. I usually keep things light around here–it’s something about these flash fiction pieces that brings out the melodramatic muse tapping at my keyboard.
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:29:24
“Faction.” Never heard it called that before! Most fiction is “faction,” or so I believe. Good luck on getting nibbles for your novel!
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:25:40
I have to wonder how many of us writers were broken in their lives. 🙂
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:25:18
Thanks so much. Don’t know where this stuff comes from. Sometimes I just feel like a scribe, not a writer!
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:23:53
Yes. I didn’t even realize the military had that policy way back then. But they did and my father was a victim. But so was my mom. When he died, she never got veteran’s benefits and she was a unemployed widow with 3 small daughters.
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:17:14
I deal with this in my memoir, but, you’re right, I could write a lot more about my father and this whole hole he left in our little family.
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:15:55
Thanks!
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:12:22
I never felt Webster had the last word on anything! 😉
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:11:54
Thanks so much. I wish I knew where this dark stuff comes from. I’m usually such a light and fluffy gal!
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:11:07
Good to be back. I hope not to be such a stranger around these parts!
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:09:58
Thanks. I didn’t want to make my comeback to the FF quite so heavy, but that’s what came out…you know how it goes!
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:09:05
Thanks, Rochelle. Means a lot coming from you!
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:08:38
Thanks, Elyse. I’m glad my mother wasn’t so judgemental as this one was.
Nov 15, 2015 @ 12:07:21
Interesting. My mom told me my dad died in a car accident, too. I suppose that was the acceptable lie…But how could a 4-year-old understand suicide, anyway?
Nov 15, 2015 @ 10:22:10
Enjoyed your post. It reminds me of my poet friend who was told her father had died in an auto accident. She learned of his suicide as an adult. Out of dealing with that, she wrote Suicide Psalms.
Lily
Nov 15, 2015 @ 07:05:51
Well done. Jenny Lawton, the Bloggess, subtitled her first book “A Mostly True Memoir.” And I think all memoirs are memoir-ish. Because we can’t capture the dialog exactly. Because time smooths rough edges. Because the narrative needs a little tweaking to make the message come through.
A sad but beautifully written memoirish, Lorna.
Nov 15, 2015 @ 04:08:36
Dear Lorna,
With or without the explanation, this was a good one. You told a lot of story effectively through the child’s voice.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Nov 14, 2015 @ 13:29:07
poignant. it makes the heart bleeds.
Nov 14, 2015 @ 10:41:40
Welcome back! Beautifully told tale. Thanks for sharing part of your history with us.
Nov 14, 2015 @ 10:14:08
I loved the child’s voice you used, and the double-meaning of “dirty”. Nice piece!
Nov 14, 2015 @ 10:10:49
Glad you’re back to FF. Thanks for sharing your memoir-ishness. I love a good descriptive word. Let us not be limited to Webster.
Tracey
Nov 13, 2015 @ 19:09:11
Handled the ambiguity well. Sweet little story.
Nov 13, 2015 @ 18:17:06
So much power in a very short story with the potential to become so much more. Very sad Lorna. 🙂
Nov 13, 2015 @ 14:40:22
Such a sad story. Don’t ask, don’t tell really is the worst because our imagination knows no bounds. Knowing is much better for coming to terms.
Nov 13, 2015 @ 12:31:39
It’s a really believable, sad story. You gave a credible account of how a kid so young might see things like that
Nov 13, 2015 @ 11:46:07
Very tragic for your dad and your family.
Very good double meaning with the dad being dirty from the burial dirt, and figuratively dirty with behavior while alive. The depth of meaning with the little girl being clean wearing white. Very well done, my dear.
I guess the story would be what they call faction. The novel I’m currently shopping will be marketed as fiction, but is also faction. It’s based on real life events that I added to as you did here. Real life makes for great writer’s content.
Good job.
Nov 13, 2015 @ 11:04:24
I don’t usually go for dark, so my “like” is a tribute to the excellent crafting of reality into this memoir-ish peace
Nov 13, 2015 @ 10:28:29
Nicely done, Lorna. I knew about your father, of course, but it’s still a compelling story. I agree with roughwriting, maybe you should try to write “through” him. Bet it would be a catharsis of sorts too.
Nov 13, 2015 @ 08:18:02
Sheer brilliance.
Visit Keith’s Ramblings!
Nov 13, 2015 @ 04:09:12
Wow. What a sad story. But boy is there a story in there. Have you ever thought of writing it in your dad’s point of view? What he must have gone through, living a life in which he had to lie and not be himself. And the most tragic thing is that he never got to know you – an incredible woman. Bet he does know that, though, in some way.
Nov 13, 2015 @ 04:05:37
Powerful! To capture so much in such a short passage means you’re brilliant. Own it!
Nov 13, 2015 @ 03:56:35
I think the line, “dying was easier than living” said it all. It’s horrible when people feel that way.
Enough of that. Let’s get on that train.
Nov 12, 2015 @ 23:54:01
The yardsticks used to measure bravery and cowardice are as perverted as war itself.
Good piece.
Nov 12, 2015 @ 21:11:54
I remember the story from your memoir, dear Lorna. I’ve daughters who attempted suicide. I know the pain of those left behind wondering what they did wrong. Gratefully, they did not succeed. One does live with a bit of apprehension of the inevitable call that could come. Your story touched me as did your very well writtten and explicit memoir – How was I Supposed to know. It’s nice to see you here – writing and expressing deep thoughts.
Namaste,
Izzy 😎 ❤️
Nov 12, 2015 @ 18:29:11
“Don’t ask, don’t tell” seems to have been the policy for anything important in most of the 20th century. Very sad about your Dad and that you didn’t have the chance to know him or say goodbye. x
Nov 12, 2015 @ 17:56:20
Very sweet, sad, and haunting.
Nov 12, 2015 @ 17:52:04
🙂 ❤
Nov 12, 2015 @ 17:41:29
Beautiful but so sad. The next prompt needs to be a happy place.
Nov 12, 2015 @ 16:47:32
Oh, I love it when you show your dark side. It tells me how balanced you are. Ha! I often take memoirish things and fiction them up and they usually turn out pretty dang dark. Good one. Sad story about your dad, though. Back then they didn’t recognize so many psych issues, heh? Especially in the military.