Held Up

Did I say between 8 and 10 pm? I apologize. I fell asleep watching Rachel Maddow. It was a few days ago, I know, and I have been up since then, but I had to quiz the Spanish and help with a Language Arts oral presentation (I was the timer) and make dinner and water the lawn and drive 20 miles on a Wednesday evening to a soccer game and write 4,000 words on a local murder of a single mom. Well, think about writing the story because it is hard to sit down and write it. Stalked and bludgeoned with a baseball bat outside the office where she worked. By her ex-husband, who promptly took off and threatened to jump from a highway overpass, but was talked down instead and now sits in prison, having confessed and given up rights to the three beautiful girls who were in school at the time, expecting to see their mom later for dinner. And Language Arts projects. And maybe a soccer game on a Wednesday. 

It is difficult to write the story because Denise could have been anyone, or me, or you, who had done all the right things, taken all the wise precautions, but wound up too broken for her own mother to view. 

As a writer telling the story of this woman, I feel a responsibility to do it justice, and to treat the bigger story in a way that maybe instructs, or warns, or at least, celebrates a mom who did her best to raise her kids, logging work hours, making cupcakes, singing the songs. I met the kids’ grandmother, who is now the mother, by default. Betty. There is a lot to learn from Betty.

Check back in a few to read more…

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