Dear Mom,
I know, I know. You warned me about this again and again . . . the image you hoped I'd never project. The "look" that would give others (namely "him's") the "wrong" impression.
Mom, this is "me" you never wanted to see, the "me" I did my best to keep hidden during those years I was growing up. I wanted so badly to please you. But the other "me" was there, getting louder and more insistent until I thought I'd go mad.
Besides, I knew you'd eventually blow my cover. You always did. I just want you to know that I did not intend to hurt you by allowing that guy to paint my portrait on the side of a building. Actually, he didn't tell me he was going to do that. He just wanted to take my picture as I sat across from him at the Cherries and Pearls Night Club. How could I refuse? He bought me the dress and the rose and paid to get my hair dyed red.
I really need you to know Mom, that I love you an awful lot and I wish you didn't have to find out this way. I'll understand if you're mad as hell, but Mom, don't reject me. Don't give up on me. Somewhere inside me is the other girl, the one you believed in and maybe one of these days her voice will drown out this one.
I love you Mom,
Esmeralda (your Emmie)
P.S. Oh! . . about those pearls. Sorry I didn't tell you. I promise to return them when I have enough money to pawn them back. Should be pretty soon now.
© Beryl Singleton Bissell 2008
The Minneapolis Star Tribune named Beryl as a "Best of 2006 Minnesota Authors." Her book The Scent of God was a "Notable" Book Sense selection for April 2006. She is a columnist for the Cook County News Herald and has been published in anthologies and periodicals nationwide. See Road Writer for her travel blog.
Photo taken by Kathryn Espliln-Oleski
http://gather.com/dear-mom-sorry-i-didnt-tell-you-wednesday-writing-exercise/
I know, I know. You warned me about this again and again . . . the image you hoped I'd never project. The "look" that would give others (namely "him's") the "wrong" impression.
Mom, this is "me" you never wanted to see, the "me" I did my best to keep hidden during those years I was growing up. I wanted so badly to please you. But the other "me" was there, getting louder and more insistent until I thought I'd go mad.
Besides, I knew you'd eventually blow my cover. You always did. I just want you to know that I did not intend to hurt you by allowing that guy to paint my portrait on the side of a building. Actually, he didn't tell me he was going to do that. He just wanted to take my picture as I sat across from him at the Cherries and Pearls Night Club. How could I refuse? He bought me the dress and the rose and paid to get my hair dyed red.
I really need you to know Mom, that I love you an awful lot and I wish you didn't have to find out this way. I'll understand if you're mad as hell, but Mom, don't reject me. Don't give up on me. Somewhere inside me is the other girl, the one you believed in and maybe one of these days her voice will drown out this one.
I love you Mom,
Esmeralda (your Emmie)
P.S. Oh! . . about those pearls. Sorry I didn't tell you. I promise to return them when I have enough money to pawn them back. Should be pretty soon now.
© Beryl Singleton Bissell 2008
The Minneapolis Star Tribune named Beryl as a "Best of 2006 Minnesota Authors." Her book The Scent of God was a "Notable" Book Sense selection for April 2006. She is a columnist for the Cook County News Herald and has been published in anthologies and periodicals nationwide. See Road Writer for her travel blog.
Photo taken by Kathryn Espliln-Oleski
http://gather.com/dear-mom-sorry-i-didnt-tell-you-wednesday-writing-exercise/