When my mother, Joan Howard, was exactly my age (67) she signed up for and attended a “Senior Memories,” class. I have the essays she wrote in that class and treasure them.
I have taken a few classes to jog my writing about my own memories, as well as on writing a journal. However, nothing seemed to “stick.” As I have had many memorable events happen in my life, it has been my recent intention (if nothing else) to write them down.
Serendipitously, I found a continuing education course for a reasonable fee entitled, “Writing Your Life Story,” through Texas Tech University. In fact, there are many courses that they offer in this manner. They are courses of about two months in length, online but relatively self-paced and instructor monitored. There are objectives and assignments for each lesson and at least from my point of view, they are pedagogically sound.
I have been enjoying this course, which keeps me on track but handling only a bit at a time. I enjoyed the last assignment and gladly share it.
The easiest person for me to ever write about is my larger than life Grandma Serena. She was my rock. When I think of her, I often think of the Billy Joel song, “She’s always a Woman to me.”
And so, she came into mind when writing my assignments for this class.
Here is my essay from Lesson Three—using dialog.
A Surprise on a Snowy Day
Early 1960s, after having driven from Brooklyn to Manhattan, Serena, dressed to the nines, is determined to get at least one ticket for the last performance of the Nutcracker Ballet at the Old Metropolitan Opera House.
She parks and trudges onto the line to the box office.
In her pocketbook are a roll of one-dollar bills. She is on a mission.
After a long queue finally winds its way through to her, Serena starts a dialog with the ticket seller through the dip where payment goes:
“Do you have any tickets for the Nutcracker for the last performance?’
“Are you kidding lady? You must have known that was a sold-out show.”
“Maybe, but there are always a few extra tickets. Surely you can check.”
Unrolling the dollar bills, Serena starts pushing them one at a time through the dip at the box office.
“Do you think you could check a few more places? I really want to bring my granddaughter to see Nureyev and Fontaine.”
“Lady, you are wasting my time. Everyone knows that day is sold out.”
More unrolling and pushing…
“I am SURE there MUST be two tickets somewhere in there.”
“Seriously, lady, I got a whole line behind you.”
Eyelashes fluttering, bills unrolling and being pushed:
“Won’t you please check one more time. It would mean so much to me.”
“Lady, I could get killed for this but I found five front row tickets together. Do you want them?”
“Oh yes. Thank you SO MUCH for checking. Here you go. “
Serena pays the man for the five tickets in full. Smiles. Turns and leaves the front of the queue, tickets stowed away safely in her pocketbook. She gets back into her car and drives home in the snow.
Memories as the Essence of Ourselves
At the end of the day, we may leave our things but the real essence of ourselves is contained in our memories, and the memories of others. Who is our audience? Well, our children come to mind immediately. But also, others. What are the lessons we can share? What are the mistakes we are willing to share? How can we know if we are telling these stories correctly? How can we keep going after we start?
Perhaps my story about my grandmother has reminded you of something in your family history. As you think about what to write, consider taking a class to guide you. I am only on lesson three but was eager to share what I’ve done, in hopes it can inspire others to write.
It is the learning process and the doing that will help you elicit ideas and possibly stimulate your creativity to new awareness about yourselves, as well as to tick your memory with vignettes from your life that you’d like to share and/or publish.
Like many women of a “certain age,” Janine has had more than a few life endeavors. She is an attorney/mediator, Texas PTA volunteer, Texas certified teacher, former law clerk, salesperson, and office systems analyst. Janine is published professionally. When life dictated it, she became custodial stepmom to Emily and (Marine MoM [correct spelling]) to her son, Jonathan. Hailing from Brooklyn, New York, Janine has spent more than forty years in Texas and currently lives in Lubbock with her husband Sheldon.
I love this! What a clever grandma who was determined to get to make a memory with her grandkids. THE.BEST. And you writing this down is wonderful and preserves the culture of the day snd showcases the human spirit.
Thank you for your comment. I guess it helps in writing memories that I had such a grandma.
Yes!!! I’ve been thinking of doing this bc I have so much inside me to share. I have 2 books written by my Great-grandmother in the late 1800s about her life coming in a wagon to Texas as a girl with her family and more. They were part of the early Settlers with Stephen F Austin. If I don’t – the next generation won’t know about it.
Thank you for the encouragement.