Last Thursday in creative writing class, we were given a journal entry to fill a page with images that appeals to the senses that work to reveal an abstraction. Abstractions are things like love, joy, grief, sadness, disgrace, horror, tenderness, beauty. In the last sentence we are to reveal our abstraction.
Here is what I wrote.
Journal Entry #3
I talk to you, but I receive no verbal answer. I’m used to it now. I miss hearing your voice. I do know you hear me; the small clues you leave for us to find, to let us know you’re here.
I walk into your office here at home, searching for a plain white envelope, but cannot find any. I only find the envelopes with your old work address on them. I smile then laugh out loud at how you’ve always kept everything; old match books, postcards, even your log books from every place you’ve stopped at dating back from the first time you started driving a truck.
I start pulling your desk drawers open, still searching for a plain white envelope. Finally, I pause, then smile and ask out loud, “Can you please tell me where I may find a plain envelope? I need one without your old address printed on them.” I received an answer, tough it was with silence. I got a vision of two boxes of envelopes, sitting on a shelf above the computer. I turn around and there they were, exactly what I was looking for. “Thank you Grandpa,” I say out loud.
Grandma and I visited you today, but I still cannot talk to you like that. I look at the cold, pink stone that bares your name and I’m shaken by the thought. My mind still doesn’t want to absorb this. Tears began welling up in my eyes as I took a few steps back. I don’t know why I can talk to you at home, but cannot talk to you there. Maybe it’s just too much of a reality for me.
I watched grandma talk to you. I tried not to listen. Instead, I dried my eyes and walked around visiting with other relatives. I get lost in the quietness of that place, where everyone is resting peacefully. People tell me that time heals the pain of losing someone. It’s been two years and four months and I still grieve for you.
You really do have a lot of enthusiasm for writing. Sometimes I wonder why I have a blog as I rarely write more than 4-5 lines and it isn’t very creative. But it is fun and I am getting braver. 🙂
Thank you! I really love writing. 🙂 You may not think it is very creative, but somebody else might. We are our harshest critic.