HHC Blog

Writing 101, Day Seven: Give and Take
Focus today’s post on the contrast between two things. The twist? Write the post in the form of a dialogue.

Console with a Broken Heart

I walked into my brother’s house. He looked up; his eyes were red.

“How come you are here?” he asked.

“I come to see if you are ok.”

“How could I? My mother died.” He cried.

“She is my mother, too. We miss her, but we have to move on.”

“You don’t understand. Mom and I had a special bond.” He cried louder.

“How do you know she and I didn’t?” I asked.

“I know you didn’t. No one had that special bond with Mom like I did. Not you, not Karin, not anyone.”

“OK. OK. So, you had a special bond with Mom. Doesn’t that mean you have to be strong for her, more than I do?”

“You just don’t understand. Mom trusted me. She loved me.”

“Why do you think I drove two hours to be here? I love you too. And I want you to feel better.”

“That’s different. Mom really believed in me. She thought I could achieve anything.”

“I am sure she expects you to live a good life. Do it for her, please.” I started begging.

“I don’t want to live a good life! She was not supposed to die.” He blew his nose and then covered his face with his hands.

“Eighty year old is considered as longevity, you know,” I said quietly.

“But she was healthy. She was not supposed to die.”

“I know. I was shock too.”

“She was supposed to live at least 10 more years.”

“I agree. But she died, and we have to accept that.”

“I don’t accept it!” he shouted, as if he wanted someone up there to hear him.

I watched him cry. I felt helpless.

“Hey, I’m here to comfort you. I am not getting anywhere, am I? I think I have to leave now, so I can get home before midnight,” I said. I held his hand, and continued, “Try to let go, ok? And I will see you soon.”

He looked at me. For a long time, he didn’t speak.

“Yes, you should go home now. Maybe… maybe I will feel better later.”

I walked out his house quickly. As soon as I got into my car, tears rushed out. It would take two hours to drive home… I could cry for every second of those two hours.

(Writing 101, Day Five :Be Brief

You discover a letter on a path that affects you deeply. Today, write about this encounter. And your twist? Be as succinct as possible.)

Baby Picture

She found an envelope partially buried under a patch of snow. Sender and receiver’s information were unreadable.

Inside, there was a baby picture with words “Your eyes, mouth, nose… you want to walk away from her?” written on it.

Rushing back to the house, she carefully studied her husband’s eyes, mouth, nose…

Writing 101, Day Four :The Serial Killer

Today, write about a loss. The twist: make this the first post in a three-post series.

24 K Gold Ring

When I left home to attend college, my mom gave me a 24 k gold ring. I didn’t want it, but she insisted me to have it. She said, “It’s for emergency. Whenever you are in trouble, you can sell the ring and use the money to buy a train ticket home.”

My family was poor. I knew Mom had borrowed money to pay for my college tuition. Had she also borrowed the money to buy this ring?

She put the ring on my finger. “It’s for emergency,” she said again.

I wore the ring for three and a half years. Then, one day, the ring slipped off my finger and fell down the drain while I was washing dishes. I frantically tried to retrieve it, but couldn’t. I felt I had failed as a daughter.

When I was home for the holiday, I told Mom what happened to the ring, and I told her not to worry. “I could borrow money from my friend if there is an emergency,” I said.

Mom didn’t say a word.

Two days later, when it was time for me to return to school, she gave me another 24 K gold ring, which I have been wearing since the day.

Writing 101, Day Three: Commit to a Writing Practice

Title: Thinking Back – Golf Lesson

Most articles I’ve read say that money is the top reason couples fight. Wei and I, however, had spent a lot of time fighting about golfing. Golfing for him is a serious game; for me, it’s a quiet walk on green grass… if I can keep the ball away from the sand trap and water, that is.

Wei wanted to teach me to become a better golfer; I wanted him to leave me alone. After having several negotiations and didn’t see any result, one day on our way to the golf course, I told him not to speak to me on the course. “If you make a sound, I’ll quit,” I said. Of course, that put both of us in a bad mood.

We met Roger and his friend at the first tee. After exchanged names, I said to them, “I am not good at this game. I hope you don’t mind that I may slow you guys down.” It was a speech I often gave to the golfers we were playing with to prevent them getting frustrated later.

Roget laughed. “We’re not good either,” he said.

When three of them managed to fly their balls 175 yards ahead and mine rolled 15, I could tell Roger felt bad for me. “It’s only one bad shot,” he said, looking down.

He stood next to me, watching me play my second shot. I missed the ball totally. Playing with strangers always made me nervous. With him standing so close to me made my swing worse.

Like it or not, I got myself a new golf coach. Roger started paying more attention to my game than his own. “Don’t turn your body too much.” “Go easy.” “Don’t move your head.”… Whenever I had a good shot, he told me I was a good student. Whenever I had a bad shot, he offered some encouragement.

By the time we reached the 5th tee box, I had recovered from my nervousness and was anxious to play. It’s only 140 yard to the green, but there is a creek running right in front of the tee box. As I was getting ready to swing, Roger came and asked, “Which direction do you think you should go?”

“The flag,” I said.

“No!” He shook his head. “This way!” He pointed a spot that was 20 yards away from the green. “Do you know why?” he asked.

“Why?” I asked, trying not to get upset at him interrupting me.

“It is the shortest way to get over to the other side! Forget about the green, you have to get over the creek first.”

From the corner of my eyes, I could see Wei grinning. “Ok,” I said, but when Roger stepped back, I still aimed at the flag.

Again, Roger came. “You didn’t get it, do you?” He then showed me how to stand.

“Ok. Ok.” I turned my body a little bit, aiming at a place between the flag and where Roger wanted me to go. I thought it was a good compromise.

Roger stopped me again. “I know. I know,” I said, waving him to go back. I took a deep breath, aiming at the direction Roger had instructed me to and swung the ball. The ball landed 20 yards away from the green. It would land on the green had I not listened to Roger!

Roger scratched his head. “I didn’t know you can hit that far,” he said.

I squeezed out a smile. “I didn’t know either,” I lied.

I thought for sure that after this shot Roger would leave me alone, but no such luck. “You learn fast! Now we can move on to more advanced lessons,” he happily announced. He wasn’t kidding. He followed me all the way to the end.

I played a terrible 9-hole that day. I didn’t enjoy the game. I blamed Roger.

Thinking back, it was really not Roger’s fault. When I started with an apologetic statement saying that I wasn’t good at the game (and I was nervous and lack of confidence), it was easy to be interpreted as “please help me”. Roger, who happens to have a big heart, wanted to help.

Just two days ago, first time, I let Wei give me a golf lesson. He was surprised and happy. And I did learn a couple tricks.