Tag Archives: Cancer

Humor: A Hard Way to Write an Essay

Jennifer Crystal challenged our Grub Street class to write a 500-1,000 word essay “using Unintended humor. Sign reading: No Trespassing. Police Prosecuted. humor to make a point.” In speech and writing, I pepper people with puns and jokes. But humor for revelation?

In our assignment from Writing Well, William Zinsser demonstrates comic devices. To question women’s public adornment with hair curlers in the 1960s, Zinsser parodied an advice column. That seems easy enough.

Dear Jennifer,
Using humor to make a point is really hard. For once in my life, I can’t think of anything at which to poke fun.

Continue reading Humor: A Hard Way to Write an Essay

Should have been

Today, August 2, 2013, Susan should have been 56 years old. Instead, she died of cancer seven months and one day ago.

Massager Susan with the crazy hair

By next month, she might have told you she was 57. She always aged herself a year, almost a year in advance. Sometimes she thought she was actually turning a year older than she actually was. And yet she was so young. Too young to die. She was still young enough to be a pied piper whom any kids within a ten foot radius would follow. She was still young enough to mold her hair into a crazy flip and appear as Massager Susan, with a technique “inspired by the Japanese ‘Tofu’ Style.” Continue reading Should have been

So much loss

So much loss.

Every day. Every day: she still isn’t here.

It occurs to me I should take a picture of her crocuses to show her…later. I’ll show her later. It gets later and later. She still isn’t here.

I try to do as we mourners are told: “live in the moment.” In that “now,” I forget sometimes that our life together even existed. Then the abyss that is my loss of our life re-veals itself. The child’s voice in my heart asks, “why can’t I have her back. Can’t she come back? Please?”
Continue reading So much loss