Writers, Revisions and Woes

Is it Friday yet?

Of course not.

Today is the pre-Friday show. It’s a teasing sort of day where one wishes so badly for it to be Friday yet dreads Friday itself because it will quickly turn into Saturday, then Sunday and then Monday. I, unlike most, do not worry about Friday or weekends in general. Every week is a weekend.
Yes, today is Friday. It only feels like a Thursday.

Mum sent over version 43956 of her book. I jest. She only has 43910.3 rewrites. I’m amused. Truly. “Help me edit this” is followed by “I’ve made some changes”. A day or two later, “When are you going to get around to reading the new chapters, editing them, or giving me your opinion of them?”



I'll let that sink in a moment.

I love my Mum and she is a true genius, but I feel much like the husband as he moves furniture about a room. He could be playing golf or sailing but he is lugging an enormous couch and china cabinet about on his day off.

The couch thunks onto the wood floor with an audible groan (from the man, and not the couch.

“Hmm,” says the wife, “what do you think?”

He draws breath…

She shakes her head and says to him, “I don’t like it. Move the couch over there!”

Eight hours pass. The wife is not buried in the backyard with incriminating couch prints still evident upon her face. The wife is humming and arranging doilies on the upright piano (which was moved only fourteen times that day. Just ask the husband. He counted.)

I can not put off her edit (my mother loves, commas, and uses them, often, so I need to fix them.) The rush this time around is due to Fr. Leonard (he is not aware of this.)

My parents were both involved at Fordham University (NYC). I have heard Fr. Leonard’s name my entire life (the poor man was mentioned more often than any other person in the world, with the exception of….. I really can’t think of any other person.) Fr. Leonard was a phenomenal priest at Fordham. I researched some info regarding Mimes and Mummers at Fordham and chanced upon Fr. Leonard himself. Alive. With email! A call quickly went out to Mum and Dad and they were thrilled.

Mum sent a powerful email to him. She thanked him for being such an inspiration to their lives. (Believe me, Fr. Leonard, you were.) He is the unseen ghost in many things that she had done; a mentor’s invisible touch that lasts through the decades. She has her own style but he influenced it. He encouraged her to direct and teach. He believed in her. He taught my father before Mum was involved with Fordham. He knew them both before they were shackled with a small and terrifying beast, sharp fanged and content to gnaw on the table legs. ::: insert evil laugh here ::: All kidding aside, my parents would not have done what they did without the lessons given to them by this wonderful man. Mum's book reflects many of his teachings from forty years ago.

If he has turned into an old grouch and treats them poorly, I shall travel to New York and kick him in the shin.

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