Proverbial Woman, Chapter 1, Part 1/Intro

"Although it is our differences and lack of understanding that separates us, it is love and time that draws us nearer..."

 


It has now been nearly eleven years since they returned from that eventful trip to Hawaii. A lot of things have changed since then. For the past two years I've mostly been away from my teaching job at Stanford. During that time I've been gradually learning about the stressful preparations that go into preparing for a book tour. Though I must say, these past few years have turned out to be more than I could have ever imagined.


Never in my wildest dreams had I anticipated becoming a novelist. Although it was in the making during those trying months I spent with mother while she was fighting her last fight with cancer, it didn't all come together until that difficult time when she shared with me the most intimate details of her life.


About three years after returning from Hawaii, the trip that Mother Celia defined as their "reconciliation vacation", her illness suddenly took a brief turn for the worst and began to have an affect on everyone. It was just after their twentieth anniversary when they renewed their vowels Dad had started drinking as a way of numbing the pain he had been feeling for some time. He felt helpless watching the love of his life fade away.


Amy, now a young woman of spirit, continued bouncing in and out of bad relationships while trying to remain focus on her education. She spent most of her time at school except during breaks between semesters. I'd always thought it was a good idea for her to remain at school instead of living around the pain in her parents' lives.


And me, the one who has always been considered strong-willed. The one they say have the strength of her father, and the ways of her mother. The one who ultimately discovered what she was made of as she struggled to keep the family together. In hindsight I can say I only took it one day at a time. And yet it had to be one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do. Now that I look back on it, it definitely took more than what I had in me.


Before it all fell unto my shoulders I had been at Stanford for a little over seven years. Between driving home two nights a week and on the weekends, I managed to acquire my Masters in Literature before going on to receive my Doctorate in Human Psychology. Apparently my dedication didn't go un-noticed. A few of my professors petitioned to get me on staff. And within two months I was awarded a job teaching at my alma mater.


It was during the start of Amy's third year at Princeton that mother’s health had really begun to deteriorate.