A Difference Of Lives

Has your upbringing ever come up and smacked you in the face? Come on face it, we’re all different. We all have little twist to our values. Little things that mean something to us, and other things that we just don’t get. I’m not an in time person. I am late on a lot of things, like birthdays, even Christmas presents. I will send an email that says Happy Birthday, Merry Christmas very much on time. Well, except for the physical Christmas cards, they turn into Happy New Years cards. And those ever important thank you’s notes, well the phone calls came on time, but the mailed cards and notes...way late.

These little differences of mine over, say your’s, my husband’s, my friend’s, or a total stranger’s has come into focus over the past few years and caused me both pause and consideration. My birthday doesn’t mean a lot to me, it’s usually another day. But your birthday, wow, it means a lot to me, and if you’re with me –physically--I will lavish you on that day and do my best to make you feel as special as you are. But my poor brother and his family still haven’t gotten the gifts for their 2007 birthdays. It’s not that I don’t love them, it’s that I’m a failure at getting things figured out, bought, and the most important part…shipped in a timely fashion. Their email birthday cards… arrived on time. My sister and I always laugh about how late we are getting our gifts to each other, it is a prime source of our amusement, and you know what it doesn’t bother me, but others, oy!

My family doesn’t do funerals. When my father died in December, no funeral, no memorial, no wake, but I light a candle for him and tell him hello, goodnight when I blow it out, and will ask him questions out of the blue, then close my eyes and listen for the answer with my heart. On the other hand like most people, my husband’s family does the whole big thing, then at Christmas time they take it a whole giant leap further with a tree at the cemetery, decorated, little lights, and play Christmas carols. See what I mean by big difference? I find it a bit over the top, but it is their belief and I honor that, who am I to say who’s right or … different? And Ducky has come to appreciate the no funeral thing a little bit, too.

I’m not a phone person, really I find myself at odds when I know I have to make a call. I can put it off for weeks. You can’t do anything else when you’re on the phone, so you sit there and listen, talk, listen and accomplish nothing, but touching bases. I know that sounds cold of me doesn’t it? But then you have to understand I’m extremely bad at small talk. When we meet, if I ask you about your job or work it is for two reasons 1) I have no clue as to what I should ask you 2) it’s because I’m really interested in you and your job. I mean it’s you. When we get to the weather then you know I’m running out of topics of dialogue. But my husband and his sisters, my brothers and my sister too… all phone people. I am away for more than 20 minutes and Ducky already has three phone calls under his belt. He constantly harps on me to call my mother, has my daughter called and if not (which usually she hasn’t) why not?…er because she’s not a phone person like me. The other day I answer the phone at work and their is a guy on the other line, and excuse me, but I am pretty damn sure he was in the bathroom.

I guess for the most part what bothers me is when we judge another and find them lacking based on our own oddities. I once had a friend, Twinkie, who came out to me, all his life he felt he’d been trapped in a man’s body and was going to begin living his life as a woman. I felt terrible for him and could offer him nothing more than my support and understanding, and to keep his confidence. Two months later he cornered my friend's wife and told her all his problems, which is his right. Later when I admitted I’d know about Twinkie’s decision and had not told, my bo...er friend was furious with me. I honored my friend’s wishes; it was not my secret to tell and what good would telling anyone have done? None, it would have done no good. Where he is today I have no clue, he walked away from Florence after his family walked away from him. But the point was that for one person keeping their secret is good, but telling another’s is good too. Huh?

My mother raised us in a very even Steven manner (do you capitalize Steven when you write even steven?) even down to our Christmas list. If she spent $35 (remember this was back in the ’60) on one child (and she had four) she spent $35 on each child. She is that way to this day. I myself am the same way; it just seems fair. No favoritism, even Stephen (maybe you spell with a capitol but Stephen instead of Steven, or steven) and all is well. But I have one child who USE to count everything in volume. So weird.

I have more than one extended family member who is atheist or what they call atheist. I get extremely tired of being told my beliefs are rubbish? They are my beliefs, I don’t tell them their beliefs are rubbish, they would be highly offended if I did, but they have the right to shove their belief repeatedly down my throat. Huh? And what they base their belief that my thoughts are rubbish is on misinformation, but if you try to show them that, then you are trying to start an argument. Whatever. Personally to me it is ignorant, arrogant bullying.

And this one last rant. What about people who claim they are vegetarians because eating meat is cruelty to animals? But they wear leather boots, have leather couches (yes plural), and suede coats? And I’m the sick one.

Oh, I have a headache.
Love
Cele