June 19, 2018
It is my second day in China. I finished Rachael’s book (so yesterday’s goal met!) The book is a fast but extremely good read and chock full of information. I love her humorous and gently insistent style. I might take her class in the Fall. Now my writing project starts from today. My goal for today is to start by planning my memoir. I have to create an outline with chapters and scenes for my project. And then, dip my first toe in by writing 500 words today. I am taking Rachael’s suggestion about writing bad first drafts very seriously and am planning to just get the words on paper. I think that doing the outline is somewhat easy, especially because it is like starting by drawing a line in the sand. I can always change it later. Important thing is to start building with the first block.
While having breakfast today, I noticed a little girl, about 7-8 years old, sitting with her mom at another table. The girl was happily chattering away. I remembered how my little Zubin loved to talk. He could talk non-stop about the most interesting stuff (to him) for a long time. And once he said “I love talking. I love the sound of words coming out of my mouth.” I used to sit next to my Zubin, just like that little girl’s mom, looking out distractedly and probably thinking of all the things she needed or wanted to do besides being a mom – have a career, do shopping, sightseeing, and just to be free. Except I am free now and I don’t want this freedom. I want nothing more than to take care of my Zubin and to laugh with him at his little boy jokes and the silly faces that he made.
At lunch I met another woman who admired my green earrings and said that her favorite color is green. I liked her instantly and shared that my son’s favorite color is green too. Then I showed her Zubin’s picture. She assumed that he was not with me at present (true in a way) and remarked “What a cute boy!” and then moved to the next topic. I didn’t say anything further because I didn’t want to share too much in case I made her uncomfortable and also because she thought Zubin was alive. I liked that and wanted him to keep on living in her mind.
Here is the view from the room where I have been writing:
Thinking of Zubin 