In anticipation for the revival, I went back and watched Roseanne from start to finish (Ya, it took a while!). I just watched the last episode.
It was exactly what I needed at the exact moment I needed it.
I forgot how powerful her final monologue was, especially the end.
When it 1st aired, I was barely a teenager, dabbling with the idea of someday becoming a famous writer from a very small town much like, if not exactly the same as, the fictional town of Lanford, IL.
Say what you will about Roseanne, I know it is not everyone’s cup of tea, but this show was a staple in my life. It may not have been as wholesome as Family Matters or Full House, but not everyone’s life was wholesome. Especially not mine.
In the midst of my dysfunction, it was a comfort (although fictional) that not every family was quote on quote normal, but it didn’t matter as long as there was love.
Lately, I have been struggling to find the inspiration to finish the next chapter of my memoir. And then today, I heard this…coincidence? I think not 🙂
Roseanne – Final Monologue – May 20, 1997 (an excerpt)
“…In choosing life I realized that my dreams of being a writer wouldn’t just come true I had to do the work. and as I wrote about my life I relived it and whatever I didn’t like I rearranged. I made a commitment to finish my story, even if I had to write in the basement in the middle of the night while everyone else was asleep.
But the more I wrote the more I understood myself and why I had made the choices I made and that was the real jackpot
I learned that dreams don’t work without action
I learned that no one can stop me but me
I learned that love is stronger than hate
And most important I learned that god does exist and he and/or she is right inside you.
Underneath the pain,
and the shame.
I think I’ll be a lot better now that this book is done.”
Her last sentence reminded me of how cleansed I felt when I finished Insane Roots. It was like a therapy session of my own making and I think that is why I am struggling so much with the second book.
There are things I experienced during that time that up until now I was not ready to deal with. Pain buried so deep, I had almost forgotten it was there. Or at the very least, grown accustom to its sting.
Revisiting those memories, means the opening of old wounds and breaking down walls it took years to build.
But it also means healing. A necessary process in moving forward. And maybe someday, moving on.
The person you all know today is not the girl in the pages of Insane Roots, nor is she the struggling teenager in the chapters yet to come. She is the woman who survived them.
And I think it’s time to finish her story.