The Space Between

I feel like I’m really in a good place with regard to my creative component of my thesis.  I am loving the double-sided book idea Alan and I have been tossing around. Here’s what I’m thinking: Side A of my book,“Conversations With My Father,” begins with my death and travels backward to on 9/11.  The first pages detail my death experience as I imagine it might be.  The last page of this retelling of events is a “handwritten” note I left for my father the night before he died.  Side B of my book might be called “Conversations With My Daughter,” and could begin with the last moments of his life (as I imagine them to have been), revealing a similarity of beliefs between him and me with regards to what happens when you die.  The next entry would be a handwritten note he left for me in response to my note.  From there, the texts could play out pretty much the same since they are “conversations” and not simply letters.  Although, I did consider just having my letters to him on one side and his letters to me on the other, but I’m not sold on that idea.  I like framing the two beginnings differently keeping the reverse time-order central to the difference between the two reading experiences.


Conversations With My Daughter

By: Richard Miuccio

(as reimagined by Laura Lopez)


Prologue

There’s a space between this world and the next.  It only exists for a moment but it’s in that space when everything becomes clear.  You understand, for the first time, all that ever was and all that will ever be.

In that moment, my moment, I left hell for paradise. Pain and suffering became forgotten. I could hear the cries of those still clinging to Earth as I met with the ones who departed to become one.  

Our bodies lay in pieces, but our souls were unbroken. In that moment, the world was revealed.  

Do not cry for me now for I am you.

We are one.

 


Ch 1:  The Space Between

“Laura,” I shouted up the stairs, right around the usual time.

“Not today, Dad,” was her reply through the slightly ajar door.

I was holding the note my daughter wrote me the night before – a “thank you” for fixing her tail light.

“Ok,” I shouted back, over the sound of her hairdryer. I didn’t know for sure if she heard me.  I paused for a second before heading out the door and jotted down a reply:

September 11, 2001

Laura,

Thanks for your note.  It was no big deal.  know you have a busy day today good luck at the fashion show.  I will miss you on the ferry.  Can’t wait to hear about that book.  Maybe we can catch the boat home later today.
Your Father

I made my way to work alone that morning.  I sat in our “secret spot” near the life preservers sipping my thermos of coffee, thinking about the conversation we could have had.


I even did a little pseudo text messaging with my father.  I didn’t overthink it too much and it’s OK. 

text with dad

I’m not sure if I’m working as efficiently as possible regarding the technical stuff, but I basically made a copy of the original google doc and began copying and pasting from the end to the beginning. It took a while but I really needed to see it in reverse order….I also ordered the table of context to get a feel for the final version.  I guess I could eventually connect the two docs into a pdf for starters.

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