The Circled Word is Banned until Further Notice

Once in a writing group, the woman who sat across from me circled all the times the word “I” appeared in my essay. It was some godawful number. Though legitimate criticism, that she did all the circling and with such obvious glee made me dislike her for the duration.

So, of course, starting this blog post, there was an overwhelming and reflexive move to start with the word that was circled. But that impulse was resisted mightily.

Not everything is about you, Jan.

Our friend’s son delivered the eulogy today at her memorial service. He had a mane of wild black hair, a thin face, and very expressive eyebrows, handsome like his father, as handsome as his mother always said he was, but this was our first meeting.

The eulogy was beautifully written, poignant and funny. He spoke about waiting not so patiently in the grocery line while his mother inquired earnestly and at length about the health and wellbeing of the cashier. His mom’s intense caring about other people, her willingness to counsel his many friends when they were teens, her gentleness with new friends, all of it was so wonderful. Glowing.

Like the obits this morning.

How does it happen that everyone who dies is so great? Have all the mediocre people been spared?

Every dead person in the obits was a great cook and a fabulous hostess, went to all their grandchildren’s sporting events, and had an extraordinary garden (it’s this last one that really stings).

Let me tell you right now. It’s not easy writing a blog post without using the circled word. It’s very wearing.

Tomorrow, there will be an end to this forced denial of oneself in one’s writing for there isn’t another memorial service and the obits are only published on Wednesday and Sunday.

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Photo by Daniel Herron on Unsplash