Showing up has been a recurring theme for me recently. Last night I read "The Amen Effect." One of its chapters was about the importance of showing up for the celebrations for those you would make time to show up for their funerals -- a concept I tend to think of in the converse. Today after showing up to hear an acquaintance read from his book, the concept was drilled home again while listening an NPR article talking about the importance of (you guessed it) showing up for people.
The pandemic made it hard to show up in person. Some people were better than others about calling or mailing care packages. I had prided myself on showing up when friends perform or preach or put themselves out there. I've done it so often it is second nature to me. I do admit I've my feelings have been bruised when the people I've shown up for don't show up for me, but that's a different post.
Today I showed up for Henry. During the pandemic Henry contacted me through Karen Miller's Open Door Publications book publishing business. At the time he was looking for someone to edit his book, so Karen encouraged me to talk to him directly. A year later when he was ready to publish his book, I pointed him back to her to finish the job. Henry takes our annual Christmas newsletter, makes comments on it, and sends it back to me. I feel my face light up whenever his name appears in my inbox because I know there will be some humor, and nothing negative. Nothing at all serious, though if he did send me a message with something serious in it, I would welcome that he trusts our relationship has moved to that level.
Henry has a quirky sense of humor. His memoir, "What's Cantonese for Mazel Tov," begins with his daughter Sarah dating and falling in love with Mr. Lee, eventually making her Sarah Lee. Today I learned some names and other details were changed to protect the groom's family, which actually saddened me a bit.
Back to today.
I arrived for his 2 pm memoir class at the Center for Lifelong Learning at Rutgers University. I was a little nervous about finding the place since Rutgers is enormous, but the building was located just off of the intersection of Route 1 and Ryders Lane, a part of campus I had not visited before.
I didn't know what Henry looked like, so I made small talk with some of his classmates before class started. One woman admired my RipSkirt and, after I extolled its benefits, said I deserved a commission for talking her into buying one. She liked that it looked as good in real life as it does in the FaceBook ads. Ah, my kind of person.
Another audience member told me I should just start writing a book. Take the story out of my head and get it on paper. Seeing me write notes (which I sadly left behind), she asked if I had a pen she could borrow.
Another kindred spirit
Today was the culmination of their work -- an opportunity to read their work in front of an audience. Their teacher, Deborah Greenhut, has been helping them get started. Keep going. Figure out what to keep. Figure out who should read it. Through one on one Zoom sessions, she worked with her students to create something they were proud of.
There were ten people on the list, and a bonus one that was added. One presented via Zoom. One could not make it. The rest brought up their work and with mostly shaking hands, and rushed voices, read their words for the first time in public. A couple had read already, and had more confidence.
The first person was a plumber whose book starts with comparing Plato and Plumbing. They have more in common besides both starting with the letter P. At least two people wrote about living in Iran. One was from China. One is from Princeton -- if I had kept the sheet of paper, I would have looked her up on Linked In to connect. One, the man who was added to the list, is a professor at Rutgers. He replied so early the teacher (apologetically) did not start the list with her. Many were retired. Most wrote memoirs. The woman on Zoom wrote about physics.
Memoir writing is about feelings more so than facts. It is important to carry the stories forward so they are not lost.
It starts with showing up.
It continues with filling blank pages with stories.
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