Yesterday’s Too Far?
As a preteen, I already possessed the unappreciated gift of being opinionated. I volunteered and felt my obligation to point out little discrepancies in stories I heard. My unsolicited and challenging opinions were received with a frown or a quick change of conversation, but mostly with a guilt inflicting comment that implied if I loved my family I would oversee the obvious.
It was and remains hard to understand the harsh criticism some individuals received for committing the same sins that…do I dare say? my family had already committed. The skeletons of their wrongdoing were hidden in a closet we were never supposed to open, but like the big pink elephant in the room, we all were aware of its existence.
This trend continued over the years.
It seems that mistakes we all at some point make are not only buried, but totally wiped out of memory as years get in between reality and wishful thinking. And whoever dare remind them of that forgotten past is not playing by the rules.
I didn’t play by the rules, still don’t.
I wonder if that trait is a byproduct of age which means that my kids at this point should be raising an eyebrow and reminding me of what I did…I must have hidden my wrongdoings really well. Actually I did. I lied to them. Every time they found a pack of cigarettes in my car I told them it was a coworker who rode with me. They know the truth now.
Who knows, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree so I might be denying my skeletons. I really hope I am not. But if I am, I did raise some very opinionated kids, I’ll be hearing about it if that is the case.