MY GANGSTER FATHER AND ME
Marcia Rosen
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GENRE: Memoir
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BLURB:
Happy Fathers Day.
Our history and experiences can define us,
inspire our actions and as writers impact our words and stories. Mine
most definitely has. My father was a gangster. Really!
This is my story about my relationship with my
father and how his profession affected me and my life, “He called me Sugar
Plum. Both a blessing and a burden, I learned interesting lessons from my
father: about generosity and determination, taking risks, and certainly finding
the willingness to live life as an adventure.”
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EXCERPT
There were mixed messages and expectations for my
generation. My friends, mostly high school sorority sisters, fell in line. They
married, had fancy weddings, and wore beautiful white wedding dresses. For me,
they were the symbol of years of living an unwanted life. It was expected of
them. They had dreamed of being a bride and about their wedding since playing
dolls and dress-up as little girls. They lost themselves and who they could be,
shoving aside what they were capable of being, to do what was expected.
One brilliant girl I
knew wanted to be a doctor. Instead, she became an accountant. What a waste.
Another wanted to be an actress, another a dancer, another a social worker.
They found it best to leave those dreams tucked away so they would be approved
of by their families. The sadness of not fulfilling their dreams caused them to
feel an emptiness much of their lives.
I had many women tell me this when I toured the country with my first
book, “The Woman’s Business Therapist.” One woman had told me her whole life
she felt as if she could never fill the emptiness. Now a senior, she realizes
why. She had abandoned her education for marriage. Why couldn’t she have had
both? Men do.
Throughout my life I felt as if I was being strangled by
such demands. I did my best to untangle their grasp. The mixed messages for
women amounted to being a good wife and mother. The man is the head of the
household and breadwinner, meaning his needs and wants are more important than
yours.
Oh, oh. My mistake? I
began making more money than my now ex- husband.
I was to have his
dinner on the table when he came home from work. I often begrudgingly did.
Oh, oh. I hate to
cook.
Never refuse to have sex with him. (Honestly, my father’s
mother told me this when I first got married.)
Oh. Oh. I failed again.
Really, I tried to do what was expected. All my friends were
already married, what was I to do?
First, I married a hippie and had a baby. Oh, oh, the
two-year marriage ended in divorce.
So, why not try again. Another marriage, another child. This
time the disaster lasted twenty-one years. He was a cheat and a womanizer. No
more oh, oh. Only good riddance!
A couple years later
in therapy, I commented, “He was lucky I didn’t kill him.”
The voice of reason calmly asked, “What good would that have
done?”
I not so calmly shouted, “I could have hung his head on the
wall, same as when someone shoots a deer and hangs it on their wall.”
“You might need more therapy,” the therapist replied.
Me: “No, I feel great about the idea!”
My parents had wanted me to marry a nice Jewish boy and live
in a beautiful house in a beautiful neighborhood. At least my mother surely
did. I hadn’t met her expectations. Neither did my father.
How is it possible to meet our parents’ expectations when
our ambitions and interests are far different than theirs? My mother’s own
disappointments created her dreams for what I might become, how I might live my
adult life. I never felt my father had those same expectations. He was,
however, disappointed with the two men I married. We both were.
The thing is, we women had mixed messages and expectations
in our heads, voices shouting at us, holding us back from stepping outside the
box women were told they fit into. I often refused to listen to those voices. I
didn’t make my life easy.
I wanted to live a life beyond the ordinary. Have I paid a
price for my wanting to live differently than what was expected of a woman of
my generation? Probably so. Mostly, it’s been worth it to me. It would have
been lovely to be married to the right man for me—one who would have been as
supportive and proud of me as I would have been of him.
Constantly pushing myself to succeed. I found myself in
situations where I was financially responsible for my sons, their education,
and my own needs. But I did it. My dad’s voice was in my head. “Never be a
quitter.”
I’ve hardly ever told anyone about the time I was asked to
run for Congress in NYC—a “no” I have regretted.
Wow, my dad would
have been thrilled.
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AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Marcia Rosen is an award-winning author of twelve books including
nine mysteries, the most recent is An Agatha, Raymond, Sherlock, and Me
Mystery: Murder at the Zoo. She is also the author of The Senior Sleuths, the
Dying to Be Beautiful Mystery Series, and The Gourmet Gangster: Mysteries and
Menus (Menus by her son Jory Rosen). She wrote The Woman’s Business Therapist
and My Memoir Workbook and has given Memoir Writing presentations and classes
for close to twenty years. Her Memoir Blog can be found on her website. For
twenty-five years she was owner of a successful national marketing and public
relations agency.
Marcia has frequently been a featured speaker at organization
meetings, bookstores, libraries, and Zoom Programs presenting talks on
Encouraging the Writer Within You, Marketing for Authors, Writing Mysteries…Not
A Mystery and A Memoir Detective…Writing Your Life Story. She has also helped
numerous writers develop and market their books.
She is a member of Sisters in Crime, Southwest Writers, New Mexico
Book Association, Public Safety Writer’s Association, International Memoir
Writer’s Association, Women’s National book Association and National
Association of Independent Writers and Editors—for which she is also a board
member.
www.MarciaRosen.com
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We appreciate you featuring MY GANGSTER FATHER AND ME! today.
ReplyDeleteThis sounds like a good memoir.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Fun writing it, Marcia
ReplyDelete