How "Delta Dawn" Nearly Ruined My Life (and, yes, I was holding a faded rose)
Using the Three "H's" in Writing & Life: Heart + Humor = Honesty
As a young boy, I made the horrific mistake of singing “Delta Dawn” – while holding a faded rose, no less – in my rural, middle school talent contest.
Mind you, this was in front of a rough Ozarks crowd, some of whom made the fellas from Deliverance seem like the Jonas Brothers.
I wasn’t just heckled, I was boo’ed offstage.
I sprinted off the rickety plywood runway and directly toward the open arms of my waiting mother and grandmothers.
I didn’t get hug them, however. I berated them.
“How could you let me humiliate myself like that?” I screamed.
My mother, the nurse – still wearing her hospital scrubs – said simply yet firmly, as if she were assisting a doctor in surgery, “You were only being true to yourself, and no one should ever stand in the way of such honesty and fearlessness. Only that can lead to true happiness.”
They then presented me with two gifts: a little, leather writing journal and a copy of American humorist Erma Bombeck’s first book, At Wit’s End.
“You will need both – humor and writing – to make sense of this world,” my mom had already written – in her looping cursive – on the inside cover. “I love you.”
They then took me to get a twist cone to numb the pain a bit more.
Yes, my mother and grandmothers, it seemed, had not only known my performance would be a debacle, but they had also come prepared for the disaster. They weren’t fortune tellers, they were simply being great role models.
That evening changed my life, no matter how much the memory stung, because I realized that my mom and grandmas didn’t stand in the way of my dreams. They encouraged them, knowing – as a nurse and grandmothers do – that healing often comes with a little pain, while knowing that discovering yourself often comes with fits of failure.