Donna Everhart

First Sentence Friday – Chapter 7

After the death of my dad in March 2015, Mom, who’d always happily declared her independence and ability to do for herself time and again, suddenly seemed to have lost her confidence. Little did I know how much she’d actually depended on him. I learned she was afraid of thunderstorms, didn’t know how to fill up her car, and obsessed over small things like whether or not the mailman had come yet.

It was during the transitional time after his death, that period of adjustment, his now empty recliner loomed each evening as she entered the living room to watch TV. The queen size bed with the indentation on only one pillow was more than noticeable as she made the bed each morning. Then there was eating alone. Eating by herself, she said, was the worst. She couldn’t keep her eyes off the empty chair at the head of the table, so she began eating at a little table set in a different part of the kitchen.

For me, it was knowing every time I called the house, he wouldn’t answer and say, “It’s Dino!” (nickname) He wouldn’t be able to share that little joke about how I was his favorite daughter, (he pronounced it in that old Raleigh way, “dorter”)me, being the only daughter, of course.

Death creates a deep mark in our souls. An everlasting stain. It alters our view of the world, even when not one thing has physically changed except we are now required to live without the presence of a loved one. Death impacts each of us differently, uniquely. Each of us processes  a loss to the best of our ability. There is never a right, or wrong way.

In THE FORGIVING KIND, Sonny is realizing the impact her Daddy’s death has made on her, and her family members. She has accepted the reality, yet realizes nothing will ever be the same again.

Chapter 7

Mama sat on the back porch waiting for us, and even in the twilight it was obvious how much she’d changed since Daddy died; we all had, really, in our own little ways.

photo courtesy of Montages

4 thoughts on “First Sentence Friday – Chapter 7”

  1. Death has such an impact on so many people. I’ve lost my parents and my two brothers, losses that were painful, losses I still feel always. The image of mama sitting on the porch is so sumoke and yet so profound, it’s so hard to move on some days.

    1. In one year, I lost my dad, an uncle (his younger brother) and a cousin, (a close cousin I grew up with, the son of my uncle). All this from my dad’s side, and it knocked us for a loop. That image I found was perfect for this post, and conveys so much.

  2. Yes, there are scars that are meant to be cherished. Physical scars are easy. I went for a run and the weather changed, don’t ever try to rush during a sleet storm.

    Emotional scars can be turned into alligator skin baggage as a way to cherished. Lock that shit away.

    Scars from loss take more. More time, more emotion and grieving. It is different for everyone and for every circumstantial. For me it has taken a full year before every fresh new morning isn’t a new tragedy. At some point you realize that you have already lived through that day. Then it hits you again.

    If anyone can work through that coherently, it you you. I have that much faith.

    By the way, your cover is lovely. I can’t wait to see it in person. I know that digital is only a representation of the real thing. I have this lovely purple orchid that will never make the calendar because the color of it doesn’t translate.

    Anyway, I can’t wait to see the cover live and add it to the shrine, I mean collection of your books.

  3. THIS, “For me it has taken a full year before every fresh new morning isn’t a new tragedy. At some point you realize that you have already lived through that day. Then it hits you again.”

    That is a perfect depiction of the grieving process. What no one notices in the beginning, because it’s infinitesimal, is that each day is a little less shocking, a little less painful, until one day you wake up, and you’re still overwhelmed with sadness, but you begin to think it’s possible to live, to go on. I know you suffered the worst kind of loss. Those who go through such are, in my opinion, the heroes of grief.

    I love my cover too! I have loved ALL of them, but this one is mesmerizing. It will be like the others with the sort of rough feel, french flaps.

    Shrine – LOL! Funny!

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