[Critique Group 1] Fwd: [Critique Group3] Leonard's comments on Martia sub

Leonard Tuchyner tuchyner5 at aol.com
Thu Apr 27 10:33:59 EDT 2023





 
 
Leonard I. Tuchyner, Author
 
https://www.dldbooks.com/tuchyner/

 
  
 
 




-----Original Message-----
From: Leonard Tuchyner via Group3 <group3 at bluegrasspals.com>
To: group3 at bluegrasspals.com <group3 at bluegrasspals.com>
Sent: Thu, Apr 27, 2023 10:29 am
Subject: [Critique Group3] Leonard's comments on Martia sub


Martiasub for April 23

 

 

Excellent

. Astorey of the way time and circumstances can work to smooth the edges of familyissues and history. 

Themessage is that, 

in thelong run

andtransgressions.

This piece  is filled with humor.

Youcould probably write books about your transgressions.

Iwonder whether there isn’t some tongue in  cheek to your remorse for  the reported transgressions. They seem moreto me to be non-transgressions.

Justliving your own life on lyour own terms.

 

Youcould probably write many books about your transgressions.

As aschool girl, I recounted my sins in the confessional—I fought with my brothersand sisters six times, I disobeyed my parents nine times, I lied five times.Truth was, I padded the lies to account for under-counting the number of timesI disobeyed my parents. Call it creative accounting.

Overmy lifetime, the times I disappointed my parents were too numerous to tally. Ababy boomer, a rebel, a wanna-be hippie, I tested their patience and fortitudefor decades.

Thegravity of my transgressions escalated during high school. I confessed directlyto God so the poor priest wouldn’t have to grapple with the future of my soul.

“Blessme, Father, for I have sinned…I drank too much Boone’s Farm Apple wine andvomited behind a bush on school property; I smoked marijuana during our seniorskip day-and liked it; I slept with my boyfriend, but I consulted PlannedParenthood before indulging.”

SinceGod didn’t strike me down for my offenses, what my parents didn’t know wouldn’thurt them.

Once Ireached adulthood, Mom and Dad were forced to endure mywrongdoings--retribution was beyond their reach. It pained them when I divorcedtwo times and married again, the third time to a Jewish man who introduced meto Buddhism. Surely, I would burn in hell. My father prayed at ourunconventional wedding to the Christian God on our behalf. Never one to hedgemy bets, I figured it couldn’t hurt.

 

Didyou mean to say to not hedge your bets? F Your sentence seems to be saying thatyou wanted to hedge your bets by your father praying for you.

 

Betweenmarriages and moves across the country, the distance between our viewpointswidened. When we reconnected for holidays or family reunions, our spiriteddebates sparked heated disagreements. Words regretted couldn’t be recalled.

Dadand Mom lived well into their nineties, none the worse for wear. Forgivenessand forgetfulness settled the dust from stormy days. Water muddied by tears ranclear under the bridge 

Wow.Thats a load of imagery to  digest. Good.

 

spanningtime. Diminished vision and dementia softened the sharp edges. Ultimately,happy memories rose to the top like champagne bubbles to blunt the pain.

 

Trulygreat analogies.

 

Reconciliation,after decades of wrongdoing, came down to the wire.

Mymother took a fall and suffered a head injury. For three weeks, her healthdeclined while her family resisted the reality that she wouldn’t recover. Ofcourse, we all hoped for a miracle. Alone at her hospital bedside, I promisedMom we would cease interventions and bring her home under hospice care. Promisekept. Hours later, she succumbed in comfort at home with our dear old Dad byher side.

WhenDad’s hour came, his bedroom was over-crowded with children and grandchildren,clergy, caregivers, and neighbors. When the volume of voices in denial becameintrusive, I suggested the vigil migrate to the living room. Kneeling by Dad’sbedside with only the hospice nurse as a witness, I held my father’s hand. Thankyou, he seemed to whisper as he sighed his final breath in peace.

Despitea lifetime of remorse, I managed to redeem myself at the end.

 




 
 
Leonard I. Tuchyner, Author
 
https://www.dldbooks.com/tuchyner/

 
  
 
 

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