Searching for Fire Bushes

The other day I met with Bradley J. Moore in New York City. He treated me to a grand breakfast, at which he ordered an impressive "Oatmeal Brulee." I thought that was only something you could expect of a custard. Apparently not in the Big Apple.

Anyway, besides really enjoying my roasted potatoes (and Bradley his oatmeal), we had a rather unexpected and joyful-in-a-way-that-makes-you-freak-out experience. It went kind of like this...

He said, "So I called Chris Cree and during our conversation I found out he grew up near where I grew up."

"Really?" I said, knowing where Chris Cree grew up. Then I continued with a growing sense of this-is-weird, "My dad lived there. Well, not really there. He lived in [place that shall remain unnamed]."

"Oh wow, I used to go to a bible study there. There was this woman named Bea. She ran it. She was wonderful."

[I, L.L, slide down in my chair and shiver]. "Um, that's my stepmother. Bradley, I was there. We met almost 30 years ago."

Stunned silence.

Then I told him the house we met in is now gone. I also told him that all of my childhood homes, with one exception, are gone. Lost to fire.

"That's something to write about," he said, ever the writer he is deep down.

"I know. But I'm not sure how."

Today, walking with my 10-year-old, I saw a bush that looked afire. "Let's go searching for fire bushes," my little girl said.

And I remembered Bradley's words.

Golden Tree photo by Ann Voskamp. Used with permission. Post by L.L. Barkat.

• Tags:  
• writing memoir
• writing process

Other Family Articles

When It's Well With Your Soul
by Jennifer Dukes Lee

93

Love Upside Down
by Billy Coffey

20

Most Popular Posts

Start-Up Lessons: Raising the Bar
by Claire Burge

42

What to Expect When You're...
by Jennifer Dukes Lee

80

We recommend logging in before posting comments

Reader Comments