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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “Waterlogged” Down in the Dirt, v144 (the April 2017 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the book Study in Black the Down in the Dirt July-Dec. 2016 collection book		get the 418 page Jan.-April 2017 Down in the Dirt issue anthology 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

A Memoir Begun

Jan Marquart

    With her pen poised, she began to write, “I am in love with my mother.” Her heart filled. Her pen stopped. What more could she say? One big cloud covered the morning sun and moved slowly passed the window while the daughter pensively stared into the sky. There was more. There was so much more. Her heart and mind were crammed full of stories, so why couldn’t she put them on paper? Her mother deserved a loud statement about her life, if for no other reason, than to share the rich wisdom her mother gave her that impacted her life until her mother left her with a young daughter of her own.
    It was no small impact. Her mother taught her daughter to live a life with a heart full of love and appreciation, discipline and respect, and above all, to find what joy she could wherever she went. In a slow and deliberate way, the mother slowly crafted her daughter’s identity and place in the world. The daughter felt confident when her daughter was born because she had been left a matrimonial legacy that would never lead her astray. Without those lessons the daughter couldn’t imagine what kind of life she could have lived on her own without her mother let alone now, a mother in her own right, with a small child depending on her for wisdom and direction.
    The daughter squeezed her pen in frustration as if that very act of squeezing would make the words pop out of the pen and onto the blank page. At every chance the daughter read other daughter’s stories about their mothers hoping to gain an insight into how to get started on such an important task. Sometimes the stories about other mothers inspired her and she got to see what the lives of other daughters were like, but her mother was different from theirs. She struggled to find just the right words using a dictionary and thesaurus night and day. The daughter sat with a still heart hoping to hear where to start but the mere hesitation of it all made the daughter feel as if she were betraying her beloved mother’s life.
    Each morning the daughter sat at the computer where her fingers froze. Despite the painful plight, the daughter showed up at her desk day after day, morning after morning.
    Then one morning, out of pure frustration, the daughter picked up her pen, felt the pen directly attached to the arm that directly attached itself to the chest that held the tender heart. She began to pour out single words:
    Love
    Kindness
    Mercy
    Hugs
    Stories
    The next day the daughter wrote the words into phrases:
    deep love
    abundant kindness
    relentless mercy
    warm hugs
    life stories.
    The next morning, the daughter took those phrases and made them into sentences:
    My mother’s deep love was unconditional, pure and trustworthy.
    My mother’s abundant kindness warmed the hearts of distressed strangers.
    My mother’s relentless mercy put the most harmful criminal into a place of peace.
    My mother’s warm hugs sent me into pleasant and deep sleep each night.
    My mother’s life’s stories told about a woman who suffered greatly at the hands of Hitler but who committed her own heart to not spend a second of her own life in such inhumane hate.
    And then, the memoir began.

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