[Critique Group 1] Marcia's August submission

[Marcia Wick]

Note:  I deliberately did not use any paragraph breaks to emphasize how 50
years passes in the blink of an eye. Please let me know if this works or if
it's distracting.

 

 

 

Blink?

Marcia J. Wick

August 2023

Word Count:  737

 

 

 

It's been 50 years since my high school graduation. How can that be? In the
blink of an eye, half a century of my life has transpired. After high
school, I completed four years of college and earned a journalism degree. I
moved from Colorado to western New York to take my first job as a small town
newspaper reporter. I met and married a local deputy sheriff. After four
years of reporting, I was hired as the Communications Manager for a national
office furniture manufacturer in the area. I sported high heels and traveled
on an expense account to showrooms in Los Angeles, Houston, Chicago, and New
York City. I divorced the controlling cop. I was promoted and got a nice
raise; I was sexually assaulted by the security guard at my workplace when I
went in to work alone on a Saturday. I battled PTSD, quit my job, and moved
back home with my parents. The guard was sentenced to 12 years in prison.
Once in Colorado, I discovered I was pregnant-not as a result of the rape,
but because I stopped taking the birth control pill after the trauma and
then I sought solace in the arms of a trusted friend the night before I left
New York. I was fighting to recover; I lacked the resources to raise a
child; I had an abortion. Once again, I moved, this time from Colorado to
northern California. I was hired by another furniture manufacturer. Coming
from rural New York, I struggled to adjust to the urban lifestyle in the San
Francisco Bay Area. I met and married the nephew of my employer. Even though
my husband worked for his relatives, they laid him off shortly before our
wedding. We trimmed the guest list; I quit the company; I launched my own
desktop publishing business; I worked part-time for an advertising agency.
Soon, I gave birth to a daughter. I managed to build up my business to
provide a full-time income allowing me to quit the ad agency. I gave birth
again to a second daughter. Ultimately, we moved from the bay area back to
Colorado where a three-bed, two-bath house was way more Affordable. My
husband didn't adjust to the move. He drank too much and couldn't keep a
job. I divorced again. For the next 20 years, I raised my daughters as a
single parent, without child support. I held yard sales to pay for their
back-to-school supplies and clothes. My progressive vision loss forced me to
stop driving. I abandoned my business after 10 years, unable to discern the
print on the page. I applied for Social Security Disability Insurance.
Eventually, I went back to work in the public school system, providing me
time off when my daughters were out of school for the winter and summer
school breaks. I dated now and then; one of the men I dated sexually
assaulted my older, then nine-year-old, Daughter. My younger daughter
battled other demons. Her mental health issues required medication and
long-term residential treatment. Both of my children fought hard to recover.
I managed to hold onto the house and see both of them graduate from high
school. Dare I say it? I met another man and married again-once my children
were living out of the home independently. At age 60, I retired with
reasonable security for the first time in my life. I began caring for my
aging parents-they succumbed in their 90s. During that time, my older
daughter graduated from college and married, gifting me with two
grandchildren. My younger daughter works (mostly) steadily and seems happily
settled with a female partner. My third husband is a grumpy,
hard-of-hearing, old man depressed following quadruple bypass surgery two
years ago-but this one's a keeper. Thanks to a small inheritance from my
parents, we're remodeling that house I managed to hold onto. I'm planning to
age-in-place at home. In one week, I'll gather with my high school friends
to celebrate our 50th high school reunion. As an "old" woman with my second
guide dog for the blind and a grumpy husband by my side, I'll make light of
my life's journey. Likely, conversations will be shallow. I'm not sure I
want my school friends to know all the trauma and turmoil I've endured over
half a century. On the other hand, will they be transparent about the
challenges they've faced in their own lives?

 

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