Seems to me that when someone does or says something that hurts anothers feelings, they need to own the consequences. Never mind the right or wrong of whats been done. Say it's an honest deed or word, but the obvious result will be injury to another. I hate it when the recipient replies with an "ouch", and then the perpetrator of the wound denies their actions or their intent to cause pain. I've been a recipient of such an injury (note I did not say victim). I have reacted by saying "Damn that kinda hurts." and what do I get? Backpedaling, double talk, and even worse, my God it's my own fault to begin with. I'm feeling pain, and I'm being told that I've inflicted it upon myself. Now that's just not fair!
Case in point. Another family holiday outing, Memorial Day. The annual picnic of tension, family drama, back biting and just more fun and games. Sarah has managed to take the avoidance road once again by being on call at the hospital. No one notices that she sets her own schedule. No fault no foul. She escapes without injury. Myself? No excuses. Besides I have a new grandson and I'm eager to meet him. He was born on Mothers Day while I was on vacation in Cancun. I returned from Mexico on the 16th and am looking forward to the picnic in spite of the fact that I know it will be the usual family fiasco. Seeing Mathew for the first time is worth the sacrifice. Not to mention the fact that I miss my Boo.
Then along comes the Swine Flu. A chance for the media to grab headlines with scare tactics. Of course the public falls for it. Flights are canceled, and hotels lose reservations left and right. I don't give it a second thought. I go. I have a great time. I'm perfectly healthy. I return home tanned and rested and ready to meet my grandson.
Only problem is my daughter, Wendy, and my son in law have fallen for the headlines too. They are terrified that I might be carrying the swine flu, and they request a reasonable quarantine, before seeing the grand kids. OK...I don't have to agree, but I can certainly respect their opinion and assume that Memorial Day (10 days after my homecoming) will be considered a safe quarantine period. Not so says my son in law. A fourteen day quarantine is required. That means, no Memorial Day picnic with the family for me. Should I laugh or cry? Get down on my knees and thank God for the freedom of spending a truly fun and relaxing weekend with people outside of my family, or be pissed because I've been refused an audience with my new grandchild? I am both.
I accept their decree with a reasonable amount of dignity. I understand that being uninvited to a family picnic is not the end of the world and I make arrangements with Wendy to visit on June first. A ridiculously safe 16 days after my return from the land of disease and terror. I don't mention the fact that taking a one week old baby to church on Sunday seems a little risky to me. I guess Christian germs don't cause sickness anymore. But I'm not bitter.
Rudy and I have an absolutely wonderful Memorial Day weekend. We discover a fantastic Mom and Pop Italian restaurant in Euclid and spend an enjoyable evening dining and visiting with Sarah and her boyfriend, Jim. All day Sunday we bar-b-que with friends and bask in the unusually perfect Cleveland weather. Life is perfect. I've forgotten the injury. We've planned an easy day on Monday recuperating from the active weekend. We have promised to join friends for a birthday dinner that evening. All is good and right in the world.
Then I get a call from Wendy. She asks if we would like to come to the Memorial day picnic after all? What? Apparently, at the eleventh hour, they've researched the swine flu and discovered it only has a five day incubation period. Go figure. Amazing what you can learn from the Internet at the last minute. I explain calmly that we've already made plans. She suggests that we take at least an hour out of our busy schedule to drop in on the picnic and see Mathew and Boo. When I remind her of the fact that they were the ones to insist on the two week quarantine, she says that I didn't give them a chance to think things through and research the flu. Are you kidding? So this is my fault?
Yes. Apparently I have caused my own pain and now I don't even care enough to visit my new grandson. Suddenly I'm the bad guy and I have no idea how this all happened. But you know what? She's right. I don't care. I understand that parents are over protective. I understand that kids expect us to be there when they need us, but not when they don't. I realize that I really shouldn't have a life outside of motherhood. But guess what? I do! And I'm not ashamed of it. I learned a long time ago that "If you are damned if you do and damned if you don't.......then don't" So I didn't go to the picnic and I won't see my new grandson until June first, and I had a wonderful Memorial Day Weekend anyway.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
It's Only Money
This post is the May assignment for the Ditalini Press.
Imagine that you are to receive an inheritance from a wealthy relative. You must, however use the money to start a business of your own. What kind of enterprise would you create?
"Ms Petska, Ms Byrd, I brought you here today to discuss your Uncle Jim's will and the inheritance that you will both be receiving from it."
"Honestly, Mr Brandt, I didn't know Uncle Jim had included us in his will. This is a complete surprise to my sister and I. Right Beth?"
"Hell yes, Kit. I had no clue."
" The amount you will each receive is substantial, but there are some stipulations in the will regarding the release of these funds to you."
"What kind of stipulations?"
"Well, Ms Petska."
"Call me Kit, please."
"All right. As you know, Kit, your uncle was quite the entrepreneur. He believed in free enterprise and was able to amass this huge estate because of his success. He wants to pass this opportunity on to you, his nieces. Give you a chance to build a business of your own, with a little financial help from him. It's a great opportunity for both of you."
"That's wonderful. Don't you think Beth? Our own businesses. I could open the knitting shop I've always dreamed of."
"A business? But I already have a job. Why would I want a business?"
"Everyone wants a business of their own Beth."
"No, not everyone. I don't want one. I've never liked being in charge. I hate the pressure of being responsible for everything. I just want to put in my forty hours and go home. I want to travel and garden and feed the birds and squirrels in my back yard. Maybe volunteer more often. Couldn't I just do that with the money?"
"No, Ms Byrd. I'm afraid not. Your Uncle was very specific in his will regarding the use of your inheritance. Either you invest in a business of your own, or you get nothing."
"But why? Who says owning a business is more important than just living, just breathing every day? Why must everyone have a goal? Isn't being alive good enough?"
"Beth. You're being silly. Just take the money and we'll figure something out for you. You like to cook. You could open a restaurant."
"A restaurant? Are you kidding? I cook because it relaxes me. I volunteer at the soup kitchen because its fun and it feels good. What part of putting out cookie cutter meals for nameless, thankless people seems fun to you?"
"Come on Sis, be reasonable. There must be something you've always wanted to build, to achieve, to leave as a legacy. Like Uncle Jim did."
"Yeah. A family, a relationship, friends, and an appreciation for just breathing in and out every day. I've done that. I'm doing that. I want people to know that I loved them and that I gave everything I had to make life better for myself and for them. That's my legacy. A business is just money and I earn all I need at my job. I don't want the money Mr Brandt. Give it to my sister. Hell give it to whoever you'd like."
"But Ms Byrd, This is the chance of a lifetime and you're just throwing it away."
"That's your opinion. I've had a lifetime already and I don't need any more chances. I'm happy. Life is good. It's only money, only money."
Imagine that you are to receive an inheritance from a wealthy relative. You must, however use the money to start a business of your own. What kind of enterprise would you create?
"Ms Petska, Ms Byrd, I brought you here today to discuss your Uncle Jim's will and the inheritance that you will both be receiving from it."
"Honestly, Mr Brandt, I didn't know Uncle Jim had included us in his will. This is a complete surprise to my sister and I. Right Beth?"
"Hell yes, Kit. I had no clue."
" The amount you will each receive is substantial, but there are some stipulations in the will regarding the release of these funds to you."
"What kind of stipulations?"
"Well, Ms Petska."
"Call me Kit, please."
"All right. As you know, Kit, your uncle was quite the entrepreneur. He believed in free enterprise and was able to amass this huge estate because of his success. He wants to pass this opportunity on to you, his nieces. Give you a chance to build a business of your own, with a little financial help from him. It's a great opportunity for both of you."
"That's wonderful. Don't you think Beth? Our own businesses. I could open the knitting shop I've always dreamed of."
"A business? But I already have a job. Why would I want a business?"
"Everyone wants a business of their own Beth."
"No, not everyone. I don't want one. I've never liked being in charge. I hate the pressure of being responsible for everything. I just want to put in my forty hours and go home. I want to travel and garden and feed the birds and squirrels in my back yard. Maybe volunteer more often. Couldn't I just do that with the money?"
"No, Ms Byrd. I'm afraid not. Your Uncle was very specific in his will regarding the use of your inheritance. Either you invest in a business of your own, or you get nothing."
"But why? Who says owning a business is more important than just living, just breathing every day? Why must everyone have a goal? Isn't being alive good enough?"
"Beth. You're being silly. Just take the money and we'll figure something out for you. You like to cook. You could open a restaurant."
"A restaurant? Are you kidding? I cook because it relaxes me. I volunteer at the soup kitchen because its fun and it feels good. What part of putting out cookie cutter meals for nameless, thankless people seems fun to you?"
"Come on Sis, be reasonable. There must be something you've always wanted to build, to achieve, to leave as a legacy. Like Uncle Jim did."
"Yeah. A family, a relationship, friends, and an appreciation for just breathing in and out every day. I've done that. I'm doing that. I want people to know that I loved them and that I gave everything I had to make life better for myself and for them. That's my legacy. A business is just money and I earn all I need at my job. I don't want the money Mr Brandt. Give it to my sister. Hell give it to whoever you'd like."
"But Ms Byrd, This is the chance of a lifetime and you're just throwing it away."
"That's your opinion. I've had a lifetime already and I don't need any more chances. I'm happy. Life is good. It's only money, only money."
Friday, May 1, 2009
Everything New Is Old
I seek out the current headlines with great unease, as I anticipate my semi annual vacation to Mexico. I've become hardened to the financial disasters posted in the daily news. After all, I have a steady job with the county and my future seems secure. I am only a few years from retirement. However, now, I am touched by the runaway press coverage of the swine flu outbreak. My vacation is in jeopardy and I'm thinking that's just not fair. I work all year for this time off. I plan ahead, book in advance and prepay everything so that I can have one week of stress free pleasure. Is that too much to ask? Poor me.
Then I read a piece from a fellow blogger who completed our April assignment to the Ditalini Press. Her story, though it be fictional, is based on historical fact and it brings the reality of history repeating itself home to me. She writes of a man leaving to serve his country in what was called the Great War. He survives combat and is brought down instead by the flu epidemic of 1918. The short story reminds me that today's headlines are the same as they were one hundred years ago. We still have men going to war, just in a different part of the globe. We still have poverty and financial crisis, and even the flu hasn't changed all that much. So what's my point? What is it I'm feeling when I see today blurring into yesterday?
Maybe I worry too much. Maybe I feel too sorry for myself, thinking I'm the only one struggling to simply live in peace. If, in all these years, nothing has changed, then what is the point of stressing over today's headlines? Did it help those who died in all the other Great Wars? Did it keep the very young, very old, and very poor from dieing of the flu? Will it help me or those I love to survive any of the same crisis? Of course not. The human race just seems so frail and it's struggle so futile. So perhaps I should stop stressing and just enjoy whatever this day, this very moment, brings me. If pain and disappointment are destined for me, then at least when they find me I won't have wasted these great times worrying about it. I'm going on vacation and it's going to be wonderful. I'm lucky to have the time, money and ability to make the trip. History be damned!
Then I read a piece from a fellow blogger who completed our April assignment to the Ditalini Press. Her story, though it be fictional, is based on historical fact and it brings the reality of history repeating itself home to me. She writes of a man leaving to serve his country in what was called the Great War. He survives combat and is brought down instead by the flu epidemic of 1918. The short story reminds me that today's headlines are the same as they were one hundred years ago. We still have men going to war, just in a different part of the globe. We still have poverty and financial crisis, and even the flu hasn't changed all that much. So what's my point? What is it I'm feeling when I see today blurring into yesterday?
Maybe I worry too much. Maybe I feel too sorry for myself, thinking I'm the only one struggling to simply live in peace. If, in all these years, nothing has changed, then what is the point of stressing over today's headlines? Did it help those who died in all the other Great Wars? Did it keep the very young, very old, and very poor from dieing of the flu? Will it help me or those I love to survive any of the same crisis? Of course not. The human race just seems so frail and it's struggle so futile. So perhaps I should stop stressing and just enjoy whatever this day, this very moment, brings me. If pain and disappointment are destined for me, then at least when they find me I won't have wasted these great times worrying about it. I'm going on vacation and it's going to be wonderful. I'm lucky to have the time, money and ability to make the trip. History be damned!
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