Preparation
Preparation
Think about the day you went to the DMV to get your drivers' license.
Do you remember that day?
Of course you do; the event was inevitable.
Whether you wanted to or not, from the first day you knew the opportunity existed, you knew you would face that moment.
Leading up to that day, did you watch your Mother, Father, big Sister or Brother drive?
Sure you did.
Just before you went to take your test, you watched your friends drive. You took driver's ed and during the practical portion of the course—when you drove with your instructor and classmates—you were aware of how your instructor and classmates observed your reaction to preparation for this right of passage.
Let's think about this.
From the day
we are about 12
we begin
to
prepare to be a driver.
To get our license!
So, for four years, we are preparing.
Think about this.
From the day we are born, we are destined to die.
We may not be capable of even trying to appreciate the fact of mortality until we are somewhat older—let's say 18 years old. But, from the age of 18 until we die—and die we will; we know that—we have the opportunity to spend some time thinking about death and dying.
We don't take advantage of that opportunity.
In fact, the idea horrifies us; we run from it.
How much time did you spend thinking about the Sunday morning when at the age of 18 your 44 year old father died from what is euphemistically called a “heart attack”? By that time you had been driving for 2 years and had thought about and engaged in driving for 6 years. Not at all, right?
Take another example. If we choose to skydive, we get trained. Trained for the moment we will step from the airplane and put our lives in the care of a parachute. One of the things that draws parachuters to that sport is the thrill; the proximity to death. The participants prepare for that experience. My friends who jump from airplanes tell me there are times the fear is palpable; almost paralyzing, even with preparation; even with training. Some parachuters pack their own equipment, most importantly the parachute. As the jumper moves toward the door, he or she reflects on his or her preparations.
As we shuffle toward to door of the airplane we all occupy in life and approach the jump off point of death, how many of us can say we spent any time thinking about our preparation for the moment? Hello? Goodbye.
My friend, Wayne told me not long ago that I was a special person in his life and he appreciated that fact. Then he said, “enough said”.
I am prepared.
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Author's Note
The day you know you will die is a day for which you should be prepared.
Help me out here, folks. I would really appreciate any comment. Even something very aggressive; if you think my writing is weak, or "muddy", please give me some feedback. If you think I should just stop posting, that's fine too.
A few thoughts: the heart of this piece seems to be the heart attack, the 18 yr who lost his father too soon, the friends who jump from planes, and Wayne's comment. I wonder if you'd consider honing in on those elements more with a clearer sense of character/narrator? Right now, it reads a bit like a personal essay, though the voice feels too distant to forge a strong enough connection with the reader. I wanted to have a better sense of why the driver's license portion is presented with line breaks and while I can appreciate that the jaunty tone of the opening captures youth in this rite of passage moment, I then wanted to see the shift, post-loss of father, into a darker, more sober, matured too soon perhaps, tone. I think too that clearer specifics would help to balance what starts to feel like a lecture. But of course, I think it all comes down to what your intention is for this piece. As a lecture on the topic of "Preparation," I think it works. As a piece of fiction, poem, or personal essay, I'd like a better sense of character and voice. Hope this helps.
just as an aside: I think your comment is a helpful way to let readers know what sort of feedback you'd like, though I doubt you'll encounter much very aggressive commenting here - it's not really that sort of forum, thankfully (imho) nor do I think anyone would ever suggest that you should stop posting. It is, however, a great place to learn about craft and to forge connections through reading and commenting on other's work. I've learned a lot from the writers here and still have so far to go. It's a good place. I hope you find it helpful.
Goodbye. Hello. Glad to have you on the site. Julie spells it out. We are best at praising what deserves praise and nudging you in new directions.
I'd love to see some fiction from you. Bet you've got some great stories to tell.
One good turn...I'm inclined to agree with Julie, that it reads more like a lecture. When I first read it this morning, I wasn't sure whether it was intended as an essay or a story. I could almost see it as a monologue though.
Julie, Jack and Siren, thank you! My comment about "aggressive" commenting was intended to describe the type of comments each of you has made. I too hope this site would not devolve into a stage for ego driven, mean spirited comments. My concept of this type of site is that it is a forum to get just the type of feedback you have offered. It is an imposition of sorts to ask for feedback, but I assume you feel as I do that the best way to identify what can be modified in your approach to writing is thoughtful analysis of the work of other writers.
I agree the piece is not fiction and I have tried with two other submissions to "weigh in" in that forum. This piece was prompted by a couple of recent experiences and I was looking for a forum to share those experiences. Again, thank you all for your responses.