Turning Point

Turning Point(Kristin Dockar) Turning Point
Jodie did not make New Year resolutions because she knew she would never stick to them. But this year, 2025, she bought herself a large bunch of balloons with the year emblazoned on them and thought.
‘I have got to turn things around’.
She felt middle aged, even old, lethargic and basically fed up.
Her children’s lives bemused her, she didn’t offer advice but watched in despair as her grandchildren grew up quite anti-social, with no interest in their education whatsoever.
So where to start to turn things around?
She did not fancy a gym membership; she had looked at the Adult Education classes, and nothing appealed. She did not want to learn a language or learn to draw and paint but she quite fancied a course on learning a more practical skill such car maintenance. She had always felt pathetic that she couldn’t change a flat or damaged tyre, and even more pathetic that she had allowed her ex-husband to dominate in what he called ‘the male role’.
The turning point came when she was sitting having a coffee. It was a bleak January day. The skies were leaden and grey, the ground sodden after days and days of rain, and a cruel sharp wind was rising. The weather reports said it would possibly snow in a day or two.
A flyer had been posted through the door advertising a Creative Writing Group. She had picked it up and put it to one side with some other post.
Something made her pick it up and read it, the information said that the group met once a week in a disused church hall and they could do with some new members. It said, ‘Come along and just listen, see what we do’. The meetings were from 1.30pm to 3.30pm. The location was a church hall, a 15-minute drive away.
Jodie sat and thought. She was interested. Her siblings were all fabulous artists, but she could not draw or paint at all. She had once joined an art course but simply felt humiliated as the course leader corrected every pencil or brush stroke. But she had always been interested in writing. Again, her ex-husband referred to her attempts as ‘scribbling’.
There was a contact email address, so she sat down and wrote:
‘Hi, I have just received a flyer regarding your writing group, and I am interested in coming along to see what you do. I do like to write but have no discipline about doing it regularly. I am attaching one of my stories to see if I would fit in. Best wishes, Jodie’.
The next morning there was a reply in her Inbox.
Hi Jodie, do come along, we would love to meet you.
Thursday, 1.30pm. Kind regards Margo.
And so, with great trepidation, Jodie went along the next Thursday, Arriving at the location, a converted church, she looked around with interest, It was a lovely building, dating back to 1876.
She parked the car and went in. There were several doors leading off the main entrance and as she was standing wondering which to open a man came in. ‘Hi, you here for the writing group?’
‘Yes, it’s my first time’.
‘OK, come this way’ and opening a door he took her into a lovely hall. The windows were stained glass, and the ceiling was vaulted with wooden beams. A large table was set up and there were at least ten people sitting and chatting. Jodie’s heart did a leap, but she walked over to the table and sat down, looking around her.
A tall woman with a mass of long curly grey hair stood up and came over to her.
‘Hello, you must be Jodie. I’m Margo, pleased to meet you’ and she shook hands. ‘Make yourself at home. We will get started in about 5 minutes. We are reflecting on Childhood today but don’t feel you have to contribute, just be comfortable and see what we are about’.
The other members smiled at Jodie, and she felt herself relax. Margo stood up and welcomed everybody.’ Let’s go round the table and introduce ourselves and say a few words about what made us come today’.
As the group members went round the table, Jodie listened with interest. Then it was her turn.
‘Hi, I’m Jodie and I’ve come today to see if I can join and get myself out of a rut. I have always written but done nothing with my bits and pieces. Oh, and I’m very nervous.’
This made the group laugh.
For Jodie, there was a relaxed feel to the group, until Margo said:
‘Jodie, would you like to read out or tell us a bit about what you’ve been writing recently.’
Jodie’s heart flipped and she gulped.
‘Um, no not really. I haven’t written much lately. I did think about writing a book about my experience of bringing up an exceedingly difficult child adopted by us. But when I read what I ‘d written it seemed so maudlin and full of self-pity that I threw it in the bin.’
The group looked somewhat shocked until Jodie said, ‘but I did pull it out again and it’s stuck in a drawer.’
There was relieved laughter.
Then Jodie said ‘I have brought a little bit of that. Shall I read it out?’
There were encouraging nods and so Jodie read:’ I am thinking about writing a book about the experiences my daughter has lived through since she went into a ‘care in the community’ project as a young adult with learning difficulties. The best way to describe the last five years is ‘survival.’ We have all survived many extreme events as her vulnerability was targeted, some frightening, some funny, many dangerous and some very sad’.
As she finished reading this, the group looked interested, and one member said, ‘Please bring one of the stories next week.’
Jodie smiled and said ‘OK, and I could also bring a selection of the rejection letters I received’. Again, the group laughed.
Margo said ‘Jodie, there’s no doubt you’re going to fit in’.
She left the group with a bounce in her step. Something had been achieved. She felt interested and alert. ‘A turning point I think’.