Writing - Saturday Night Drills

Writing - Saturday Night Writing Drills

Together.  Quality.

You won't open this for some time.  I gave explicit instructions that you'd not be given it until the right time, so if you are reading it now, I hope it's the right time.  Either that, or you blasted Uncle Mayhew can't be trusted for anything.  Not even a dying woman's wish.  Bastard.

Where was I?  Oh right.  You should ignore that part, it's not nice to think unkindly of the dead.  See, you're thinking I was a mean old bat.  I guess I was.  You'd be right.  But you should know that this mean old bat always wanted the best for you.  That's why I pushed you so hard, that's why I didn't let you go to Susan's birthday party because you hadn't finished your paper route that day.  I know you were angry, you teared up and even skipped dinner that night.  I remember it well.  I should've let you go, after all she only turns 8 once, but you were the one who didn't do the paper route.  I was just the enforcer of that moment.

Where was I?  Oh right.

You should ignore that part too.  I could go back and just write a new letter, but that feels like cheating.  I hope you never cheat, you should always lay all your cards out on the table.  That's the most important thing in life, lay all your cards out, and make sure that people can say above all else that you are honest and are worth a day's labour.  Really.  Because if you're not honest, and you can't do a good day's work, then you're no daughter of mine.

But you are my daughter.  I hope you're not a mean old shrew like I am now, but that you're a wonderful young woman.  I hope you're hard though, just a little bit around the edges.  I hope you know well and good how to haggle for a sack of sugar, damned things are so expensive that they need a little haggling.  I hope you laugh though, you'll remember that I always had time to stop for a laugh.  Laughter is the best medicine, especially laughing at other people.  I kid!  I kid!  Maybe.  No not really, laughing at your father when he fell off the roof was one of the funniest things that ever happened to me.  He got me back he did, but it was funny all the same.

I think you've read this far expecting that I'd give you some kind of sage wisdom today.  That there'd be some kind of tell all-reveal of motherly advice to a daughter that would make this all seem somewhat more palatable.  Well there isn't.  Put that in your pipe and smoke it.  I hope you don't smoke.  And if you do I hope you have the good sense to brush your teeth after you do.  Don't kiss that boy with a smokey mouth.  It's disgusting.

Alright, I'm running out of page, so here's the last few words.  Stand up straight, don't be afraid to cry, speak clearly when you make a promise, and if that sonofabitch lays a hand on you the wrong way you take out his front teeth.  With fist or pliers, it don't matter.  You should remember that you're my daughter when you walk down that aisle today.  My daughter and I couldn't be more proud.  You were made of sterner, stronger stuff than me, and you get to prove it today.  So walk with your head tall, because I'll always be with you, my darling baby girl.

I love you.

Your mother,
Claire.

PS. If your Uncle Mayhew really did give you this early, you turn around right now and you tell him he's an asshole, and that I never did write him a letter about where I buried his favourite pocket-watch.  That sucker's long gone in the creek mud.  Asshole.