“On the other side of pain, there is still love.” -Madeleine L’Engle
Clearly not, especially if it’s physical pain.
“On the other side of pain, there is still love.” -Madeleine L’Engle
Clearly not, especially if it’s physical pain.
“A doubtful friend is worse than a certain enemy. Let a man be one thing or the other, and we then know how to meet him.” ―Aesop
http://www.idealistrevolution.org/7-reasons-the-blunt-friend-is-the-best-friend-youll-ever-have/
Having read this, I feel pretty damn good about the kind of friend I am to others.
I had a “masquerading friend” break up with me via e-mail several months ago. Not only do I find it as low as breaking up with a girlfriend/boyfriend via text or social media, but it shows me who the person really is. I don’t have time for crap like that, or crappy people.
You will find that I am almost completely silent on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. I lost both of my parents within five months of each other between 2007 and 2008, so each holiday is difficult for me. My parents were young, making it all the more devastating.
I have a living, constant reminder of my father, but I don’t have one of my mother. People often assume I am exactly the same person as each of my parents and they’re wrong. I am not as ferocious as my father, though I have my moments. I am not as kind, caring, or anywhere near as compassionate as my mother. I simply lack the genetic make-up for those traits. I like to think I am the correct blend of their best qualities, but I’m highly aware that I inherited a fiery temper.
People think that when you lose your parents, you simply keep on living, that you don’t look back on their memory. They would be wrong, at least where I am concerned. There is no way for me to live without honoring the memory of the people I have loved and lost. To do less would be false, and I’m many things, but I’m not false.
On days like these, I can either ignore the issue completely or I suffer. Of course, I’ve been doing a lot of suffering lately, so I can only hope this coming week will be a better one.
To all the fathers, step-fathers, uncles, Grandfathers, & single parents who step up and handle the tough stuff, may today be a reminder of the appreciation bestowed upon you. To all the new Dad’s, welcome to parenting.
“Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day.” ―Markus Zusak
It’s mildly interesting to me that the majority of people don’t care how much they bitch to others. They can complain about the same thing every single day for 8-12 hours, but God forbid you want to interject with a thought. Suddenly you’re “the enemy” who has interrupted the flow of kvetching. (Please refer to Yiddish phrases. Contact me ONLY if you do not understand its true meaning.)
In reality, you’re simply tired of hearing the whining. You’ve contemplated 60 different ways to kill a person using office supplies and/or electronic devices at your disposal. I always think it’s exceptionally safe that people cannot see me on the phone when I am listening to them drone on for hours about nonsensical shit that means nothing to me. I’m not completely heartless (I had it checked), but if the last 20 conversations centered around one topic and one topic alone, I have probably thought about how bad Q-tip damage to the ear really is. I’m a great listener, but I am not known for my patience or tolerance for bullshit. Simply put, I don’t have the head for it.
On occasion, I would like for someone to listen to me and truly hear what I have to say. So by all means, let me know when it’s my turn! In the meantime, I need a nap. 😦