Him
“Hey, just calling in again to check up on you. I texted you three times before, I’m not sure if you saw them anyways call me when you’re free. Love you, bye.”
Anxiously and disappointedly, I pressed the send button and turned my phone faced down on my desk, waiting for his response. I went back to giving my cancer-stricken mother her horse-pill medicine and got ready for work.
Employed by the Jewish Community Center of Bensonhurst for five months now, I was starting to feel adjusted, however the anxious feelings crept creeping in. My boss seemed to appreciate my “hard” work and my work ethic, so it seemed like I was certain to get a promotion so I can help out with my mom’s hospital bills. However, my writing was finally gaining some attention, and I was feeling a wee bit confined as my small chance of an opportunity to chase my dreams and make them into a reality.
As I was returning phone calls to parents that left voicemails asking about the summer program, I saw that I only make ten out of twenty calls and none of the parents sounded like they were interested enough to enroll their child into the summer program. I hated this part of the job. How enduring can I be when my heart wasn’t into this job? I mean sure I’m “helping” making great summer memories—but I highly doubt that I was doing that.
My phone flashed and vibrated. God took him long enough. Can’t believe that he’s actually answering this time.
“Hey big girl I saw your messages, what are you doing?” my dad finally texted back.
I smiled and shook my head. My dad could barely remembered his birthday, so it would be a piece of cake to surprise him.
“I’m at work now, but I wanted to know what are you doing this weekend?,” I quickly texted back.
“Nothing much, why what’s up,”
I told him that I wanted to take you out to lunch and catch up, to see what you’ve been up to.
“Oh cool, lucky me! I’m not doing anything this weekend so sure we can have lunch, I’ll tell Jessica to come along.”
I held my phone in my now sweaty hands and re-read the last text that my dad sent. What a weird joke! As far as I knew my dad was single and wasn’t “looking for anything” at least that’s what he told my younger siblings and I.
Hello everyone, I would appreciate any feedback for my draft. I know it is short but I wanted to see if I’m going in the right direction for my memoir. Thanks again.
I think you did a great job getting the reader curious about the speaker’s relationship with her parents. I’m left wondering: Why does the father have such a bad memory? Why is he so hard to get ahold of? Why is the speaker left to take care of her mother? Isn’t there anyone else in the family that gives her a hand? And the biggest question: Who is Jessica and why is she being referenced by the father like she’s already a part of the family?
Aside from that, I’d like to comment that the speaker seems to be pretty hard on herself. She has lots of generalized anxiety in her life – is this an ongoing thing or is it a particularly tough day she’s having?
Lastly, just a technical issue – the passage begins, “Hey, just calling in again to check up on you.” However, the second paragraph says that the subject then presses the send button. This is confusing because you wouldn’t press send for a voicemail.
Nice comment. Very helpful.
Hi,
I like your style of writing. It is very easy to read. I like how you told your background story, about your dream, your mother, and the situation with your father. I am curious to see where your story will go.
Question: What is the idea for your memoir, in other words, what is the main point you want to find when you write it?