November 17, 2011
After thirty years of saying to myself and to others “Well, write Oprah…” – I am finally going to write Oprah. You and I have a long history, and I wanted to share some of mine with you. I am sure you get a million of these letters everyday, but that was always my excuse before. So, no more excuses, I AM WRITING TO OPRAH!!
When things were tough in my life I would say “I’m going to write to Oprah about this..” but of course I never did. Thou I did call your phone number during Katrina and left the message “For God Sakes Oprah, do something, these are your people”. In my defense of such a racist statement, I was hysterical and devastated over the conditions in New Orleans. And frankly Oprah, you are the only person I “knew” who I thought could have done something.
When I was in my car accident, and the doctor recommended that I get an Endless Pool for therapy, I just laughed and asked him, “you do remember we are military, right”. So that evening, I told my daughter she should write to Oprah, and get her dear Mother an Endless Pool for her physical therapy. I told her she could embellish and tell you what a great Mother I was and how much I deserved this pool. I remember her saying, “Mom, you are a great Mother and you do deserve this pool”. My reply was then, why are we wasting time talking, start writing. LOL By now, I hope you are getting a sense that my life is full of humor.
I won’t even attempt the weight loss saga, you and I have gone through. What a battle huh? I wanted to write and be on your show, fabulous and 50 because I was becoming fabulous and 50. That was in 1995. Still disabled, I was determined to get walking back into my life and so I enrolled in a water class for 2 years, and then I began doing laps. At last, the weight was coming off. I was feeling very “Oprahy”. That was the year before my grandchildren, twin girls, age 4, moved in with me. My days at the gym, swimming laps, were over – I was once again a new Mom. It was about this time, that my daughter asked if she should write Oprah and see if I could get an Endless Pool for my therapy. My daughter inherited some of my humor.
And then in 1998 my world fell apart. After years of keeping my husband’s many extra-marital affairs from my children and my family, he did the unthinkable. He brought the grown children into his drama. I was devastated – 25 years of keeping his secrets a secret; I awake at 3AM to hear my daughter crying. Upon investigating, I find my two children and my daughter-in-law sitting at the dining table looking very forlorn and devastated. I thought something had happened to their Dad. Oh something had happened alright, the man had completely lost his mind and his “Clinton-itis” was now out in the open. Maybe I should write Oprah I had thought, and just lay it all out and warn other women, to NOT do what I had done. My son thought it might be wiser to write to Jerry Springer – after smacking him on the back of his head, we continued with the saga of their father’s infidelity.
The 1998 saga was an interesting year. Bill Clinton was doing cigars, and my husband was doing a Clinton – hence my term, “Clinton-itis”. I wrote a story about my life up until this part, and then turned it into a murder story; I’m sure you can guess the victim. It was very therapeutic. It just sits in my computer, gathering dust – who was I kidding, I was an old broad, with no chance of getting a book published. Oh, oh, oh, let me tell you one thing I did that was both hysterical and I guess a little dangerous during this period of distress. I knew my husband was in Tennessee, but that was all I knew. So, two weeks later I find this number in his pocket with the name “Jamie”. So, I call this number, and pretend I am Lt. Stacey Nelson of the Alabama State Police and I am asking to speak to this Jamie. I told the man who answered the phone, (Jamie’s father) that we had a victim here in Alabama, and the only I.D. on him was this number in his coat pocket. Upon describing my husband to this gentleman, he blurted out, well that sounds like the guy that was visiting my son. My next question, was if he could tell me anything that might help me identify the victim, and did he leave their residence alone. Well no, he left with the two girls from Ohio. BUSTED. I’ve always wanted to be a Private Detective. Hmmm, I never thought about writing to you about the Private Dick thing, oh well.
I am getting off subject. I have told my children and my grandchildren, many times, to write Oprah. I’m sorry, I can’t buy you a car, write Oprah and tell her what an outstanding student you are and would she help you get a car and a college education. I can list many times I have told my children, grandchildren, friends, and family to write Oprah. She can solve anything.
Then the worse thing happened ever. You announced your retirement from the Oprah Show. I was devastated. I would never have a chance to write Oprah now. Well I knew the early bird always gets the worm, and I was definitely sleeping all those times, when I should have been writing. Well that was okay, I told my kids. Look, I got through all my strife and hard times without Oprah’s help. And look, I’m still here. Still fat, still disabled, still financially unstable, and still worrying about my grandkids getting an education, but I really am happy. So why am I writing Oprah now?
Well Oprah, when you were presented the Oscar this week, I was struck how everyone ln the audience truly had a look of admiration on their faces. They truly loved you. Not for what you do for people, but for just who you are, a good person, with a good heart. And tears filled my eyes, and I immediately thought about the last time I spoke at my church. I remember the looks on my fellow members as I spoke with sincerity and openness – they loved me. I am kind. I am a good person. And I am respected. And this is why I am writing to you now. I just wanted to share one more thing, we have in common. We are both good people. Thanks Oprah for reading this novel and for being who you are.
Rose M Scott
1707 Perch Drive
Mobile, AL 36605
P.S. My daughter just peeked over my shoulder and told me to tell you I still don’t have that Endless Pool. LOL The tradition is handed down. She makes me proud.