H is for . . .

During the month of September I have been blessed with two trips to the Central Coast -- one with my husband and one with a special friend from college days (oh so long ago!). Besides this unusual addition to my schedule, I have also purchased two (yes two) new computers this month. I'm not keeping them both. After a week or so of using the first one, I decided that although I loved the computer, it was just too big. Each computer purchase involves time transferring information from the old computer to the new one. All this extra activity has resulted in my neglect of various responsibilities, including this blog. I am sorry that you have had to wait so long for this next installment of alphabetical memories of our class.


Please read and enjoy the two "H" stories we have for this week -- and let the writers know you appreciate their work.


And, Lewis, if you happen to read this, we would all love to hear from you again!


Bonnie

H is for “Happy Healing”

By Lewis Hildreth

          This class has been a place for healing. All the stories, true or fiction, upbeat or sad, well said or not, have made this class interesting, enriching, and encouraging for me. I have been encouraged to say what at first I dare not say, to stand up and read my writings aloud, to give voice to what hasn’t been easy to say in the past.

        I know by my feelings that this class has been supportive and always encouraging. I always look forward to coming to class every Thursday. This class has been a place for wholeness to mend fragmented memories. The class has given encouraging feedback to help with creative isolation. The class overflows with supportive camaraderie to keep this writer cheerful in a dangerous world, gone insanely unconscious.

        I enjoy writing my assignments for every Thursday, trying to meet the deadline of the next class meeting. It takes effort to work through inertia, giving voice to my own ideas. The excitement of the creative process has brought a measure of healing happiness to me. If I never publish, it is immaterial to me, for writing my stories down and reading in class is so much fun and rewarding as I have said above. I feel healed both in heart and mind; that’s why I can say this class has been a place for healing.

H is for “Hiatus”

by Annette Skarin

 

My writing group has given me a much needed hiatus from life’s difficulties.

I had returned to California from Washington State a few years after my mother passed away, and after an unsuccessful operation to repair her heart. Two years after returning, and unsuccessfully trying to get a job, I was ready to give up. Life had been very difficult during most of my sixty years. I had never had a break from the relentless torment of the way my brain dysfunctioned. Finally, I began shaking my fist and yelling at God, “Why did you make me this way?” (He can take it, by the way). I came to a place in my journey of life where I was finally able to ask for help for a disorder that was beyond my control. God did hear my prayers, as He always has, and led me to the right help. I now feel more balanced and calmly joyful than I can ever remember.

I had been attending a large Bible study group consisting of women from many denominations and cultures. A lady from my group named Evelyn, continued to pester me about trying out a writing group she belonged to. I resisted at first because I didn’t believe I could write. I finally agreed to come along – just to get her off my back.

Well…here I am a couple of years later, and find that my strength to write about my struggles continues to be bolstered, and I continue to blossom into the writer I am today. I stumbled and stuttered and read too fast in the beginning. My class called, “Creative Writing/Memoir Writing” gave me the courage to continue in spite of my weaknesses.

Today, I’m a different person, as I continue to heal. I’ve taken off with my “writing wings” – into the flabbergasting future. I joined a Toastmasters group, called Cheerful Chatter, and learned how to speak with poise. I am now attending; the California Writers Club of Long Beach, once a month; and most importantly, I am using the gift God has given me, by exercising my writing muscle daily.

I hope this is not just a brief hiatus but a long one. Thank you, fellow writers, and teacher Bonnie – you’ve been a blessing to me. 

G is for “Growth,” By Barbara Goodhue

One of the reasons I love this class so much is that it has helped me to grow as a person, as a writer, and as a teacher. Barbara reminds us that we must be seeking places that nourish our hearts and minds; and when we have found such a place, we need to come back for more. ~ Bonnie

This class has been a place for growth, generosity, goals and good times. It has motivated me to start writing some memoirs. However, I have a long way to go.

People love to be generous with their stories. Everyone has a good time trying to meet their goals. We all enjoy listening to the stories people write, which are very good and about a variety of places and experiences. I think I have grown by being able to write, and I am very grateful to all who have contributed to my growth by allowing me to listen to their stories. Sometimes I am envious of those who are so good at writing. Maybe with time I will grow and get better.

F is for “Fellowship," By Judy Brandemihl

I have already posted this story once on this blog -- it was when we were freshly grieving the loss of our dear friend, Judy Brandemihl. Since I am going through the alphabet stories now, it is time to publish it again. I hope it reminds us to treasure the moments we have with those who mean the most to us. ~ Bonnie

         Where would I have been without the fellowship of my friends from memoir writing class?

        You see, when we get older, friends (true friends) become more and more important. We’re retired for the most part, so we don’t have the daily interaction with co-workers, customers and associates that we once took for granted. Sadly, too, we often outlive our mates and sometimes many family members. Now too many of us live alone and depend on our Senior Center for a social life and the Memoir Writing class is the perfect place to find the very best of it. My husband and I are fortunate enough to still have one another’s companionship. Still, we need outside interests. I joined the memoir writing group several years ago and last year my husband joined me. Now he’s hooked and can’t wait for each Thursday afternoon with our friends there.

        At our memoir writing class we not only exchange the mundane news of our week, we share our memories and our pasts. No, that’s not exactly it; what we share is our lives. Those folks who were once strangers that we might have passed without pause are now some of our closest friends. We freely confess our fears and our faults, knowing we will not be judged or ridiculed. We are among true friends, and they are like family. As in any family, there are some that we’re closer to than others, but they’re all there for you when you need them. They’re happy for you and sad for you. They celebrate with you and pray for you. They’re all a dear part of my life each week, and without them I’d feel as if I had lost my family.

        We write our stories and exercise our brains at the same time. We laugh and we cry. We joke, encourage and give advice. We need and are needed. We’re not only writing our memoirs, we’re creating them.

        In 2004, when I was diagnosed with lung cancer, my friends from class were there for me, giving me their support during the next difficult eight months. Just knowing this was a big part of my recovery.

        Then, earlier this year, they were there for me again, this time to celebrate when I won a memoir-writing contest for the Long Beach Press Telegram. They didn’t allow me to stay shyly in the background. No, not them. They collected copies of the newspaper, asked for my autograph and praised my writing to any who would listen. My victory was their victory.

        They are my classmates, yes, but even more they are my friends. Of course, more than anything, they are my “family,” and I’d hate to think of not spending each Thursday afternoon with them I’d hate to think that I wasn’t able to be there for them when they needed me.

E is for “Encouragement," By Virginia Murrell

This class has been an encouragement for me to write my memoirs. I meet other people who enjoy writing their memoirs and a fellowship has come about in the class.

I found after my grandparents and parents died that I became interested in their lives, but now they were gone and couldn’t answer my questions. So I am writing my memoirs so that at some later date, my children and grandchildren may be interested in my life story. Some of us have found that our families are not that interested in our memoirs at this time.

I get many ideas for my writing by listening to others in the class read their stories. The class provides me a place to read my memoirs. I enjoy sharing my writing with others. When I hear others read their stories, I am touched by their lives. This also encourages me to write more.

Also I get feedback from the teacher, Bonnie, and the other students. Corrections are good feedback to get from the class. I was uneasy about writing. I really struggled to write my papers in college, so I was not comfortable about writing. But with the encouragement in this class, I feel much better about writing. My main focus is to get the memories on paper. If I do a good job, it is an extra bonus.

Having the class to attend helps push me to write my stories. If I didn’t have the class, I would procrastinate. I am so happy with the stories I have written and I have many more in my head waiting to be written. I need the class to continue writing my story.

We all need encouragement from time to time. I love this reminder that our class is one of the places where we can find it. It’s also good to remember that if we don’t write our stories our children and grandchildren may never know what truly mattered to us. Thanks, Virginia, for this word of encouragement! ~ Bonnie

D is for “Delightful,” by Dora Silvers

Dora took the challenge of writing something for the letter “D,” and came up with this “delightful” reminder of how lucky we are to have Dreamy Dora in our class! ~ Bonnie

          In our memoir writing class we share delightful memories of our parents and grandparents. They delight our hearts, but sometimes there is a dash of dreadfulness. There are far away places where our classmates lived or vacationed at various times. Now, we are the grandparents sharing the antics of our dandy grandchildren. Sometimes there is a bit of danger. Photographs made their stories a distinct image in our minds.

        From grandfather clocks to our digital cameras, we have come a long way from our grandparents. Times have changed; our memories can be computerized and recorded for generations to come. We walked in our classmates shoes for awhile and traveled to distant places with their memories.

        The view from Sun Valley Idaho was so breathtaking. It was beyond description. The photographs brought the distant place into direct focus. We were able to travel in our imaginations on Amtrak to Denver, enjoying the dramatic view of the Rocky Mountains. Over the loud speaker on the train came the delightful voice of John Denver, singing “Rocky Mountain High.”

The members of our class have so many different experiences to share. It actually makes a delightful afternoon in our memoir writing class. You can call me “Dreamy Dora,” as their stories are a delightful dream for me.

C is for the “Classroom," By Alice Santillan

This piece is by a student who only came to our class for a few weeks. Alice, if you happen to read this, please know that you would be welcome to come back to join us again. ~ Bonnie

          As I considered attending this class, I kept wondering if it was for me. I have had some entertaining and uncomfortable episodes in my life, and wasn’t sure I was ready to write or share them with anyone.

        As I sat in class, listening to everyone express and share their stories, conversations and their great camaraderie, I began to think that the class could be fun for me. Maybe this class would be educating and exciting and maybe I would discover myself! Wouldn’t that be fun!

        The class is composed of both men and women who have shared their anecdotes with us. It was interesting to hear each story. For some, the stories were sad. Others were documentaries. Still others were comedic and I enjoyed them all.

        There have been some stories that have been published so we have a few authentic authors in this class. Imagine that! What a great compliment for these students. Congratulations!

        Our teacher is extremely caring and helps us out readily. She is a very enthusiastic teacher and very well versed. Thank you, Bonnie Mansell. Congratulations to you, too!

        This is my first attempt at writing, so I’m sure it’s not adequate. I have only been in this class twice. I am still learning, of course, and would like to continue, just to see what I can deliver.

B is for “Bonnie’s Bunch”, By Randy Brandemihl

This short piece is especially poignant because we so recently lost Randy. It is a good reminder that life is short, and we need to cherish our time with those who mean the most to us. ~ Bonnie

When I joined the senior memoir writing class, I found something that had been missing in my life, a group of real and beautiful friends. They were much like a military boot camp, Boy Scout pack, or any group of friends that I’d known in my younger years, who gather together to share and practice their common interests or needs.

But these people were more important because as you grow old, these groups no longer exist for seniors. That’s why this group of friends is special, so special that it is irreplaceable.

We’ve shared our entire life experiences, love, family, heartaches, joy and victories and, yes, on occasion, the loss of one of our own. And, like family, when we must part the pain will be unbearable for us all.

It is for this reason that I’m thankful for every day I spend with this beautiful bunch of friends. . . Bonnie’s Bunch.