Post by MSMFDawn on Mar 4, 2009 23:23:17 GMT -5
"If it doesn't stop with me, right now, what happens to my son?" he asks intently. "If I don't forgive my mom, I'm just as guilty as she. My grandmother never forgave her father; my mother never forgave my grandmother; it's got to stop with me. Period. Because if I carry around all of this hate and baggage, it's going to destroy me, my wife, and son." David Pelzer www.metroactive.com/sonoma/pelzer95.html
Everyone know s the theory of the mud sliding downhill. It seems this is the same with the baggage of generations. Each of us in our experiences have found some to be quite pleasant while others are not something we talk about for one reason or another. When we consider the changes from one generation to the next we look at the differences in parenting, social cues and relations between strangers and friends.
I chose a quote from a man whom I have never met, a man whose courage and fortitude I admire but above all, his willingness and ability to forgive. I had nowhere near the childhood that this man did and if you don't know who he is I would suggest buying a box of tissues and reading his three books. Take your time to absorb and fully picture what you have seen in your mind through the descriptive words of this soft spoken man. Come full circle with his plight and share in his survival.
You may ask yourself why I am posting such a thing today. Well I guess it stems to this. In all our time on earth we make decisions. decisions that will affect others. We take what we have learned from our parents and either use it, throw it aside, or pick and choose. We also must somehow take into account how we felt as those circumstances or rewards were handed out. Were there things that would have meant more? or Less? Our childhood is the stem by which each petal of our personality grows.
I came from a home where essentially- until I was 11 it was me and my mom. I spent a lot of that time grounded to my room or the house or the basement etc because I broke the rules. It was the 70s and 80s and times were different. We weren't taking "time outs" - we were "sent to the corner" and by gosh your nose had better be touching the wall. Corporal punishment was allowed and was only recently forbidden in the public schools. Like most kids... I learned the rules and played the game. Ears tuned and awaiting the footsteps approaching that cued my movement to appear to be handling whatever task had been requested of me. I learned that -it was not how long it took... only that I was actually doing it. Unfortunately I missed a lot more than I learned.
What did I miss, well I'll tell you. While I spent those three days cleaning that 10x10 room-- my friends were riding bikes, roller skating, going to the park, watching tv, playing with GI-Joes, football, tag, playing in our 7 forts up in the woods, skateboarding, going to movies, dating, talking on the phone, going for sleepovers, having sleepovers, and NOT getting scolded. Another thing I missed... was the proud smile of a mother who saw obedience and respect in her only daughter.
Now, don't get me wrong... I was not that bad a kid. I did my homework, turned it in, practiced my violin and those silly eye exercises for hours. I didn't dare back talk (at least not often) because that made my face hurt and mom's hand sting. I pushed the limits though... within reason. There was some trauma in my early years that left me a messed up kid. I did good to block it out completely until puberty set in. Then little bits and pieces would creep in like an ivy taking over the corner of a room. By then I had a "step-father" again only this would be the one that would teach me something miraculous.
J taught me that there was more to discipline than standing in a corner, being sent to my room, corporal punishment or just plain yelling. He was the first person to talk to me like a human being, an equal-- which at the time I just wanted the spank and get it over with. It was what I knew. I was used to the knocks. Instead.... he would sit me on the couch in the corner of the living room, sit across from me and do the most horrifying thing in the world!!! TALK! He told me of his childhood and how things were different now. and how one day I would have to make the same decisions on discipline and how to hold myself in the world. Never did I imagine that his prim and proper behavior would one day be something fond and familiar to me. Something that I would use, even in the eyes of strangers.
Picture a small waiting room, five or six chairs with a large pillar in the middle. A young boy and his aunte impatiently awaiting the end of tests that seem to take forever. A man on a stretcher holds the attention and smiles of the boy for several minutes while two elder ladies come in to sit down. After the man is wheeled away, boredom once again sets in for the lad. A conversation ensues about what he thinks he is going do and she knows he is not going to. The conversation is quiet, so as not to disrupt the ladies also waiting in the area.
"I'm going to see mom"
"No, honey, I told you we must wait for mommy to come to us this time"
Grouchily he says; "I'm going to sit on the floor".
"Not here, sweetie, the floor is yucky, I need you to sit in the chair."
He starts to sit... "One." she says, ... "Two." with a quiet authority.
"I'm sorry Aunte, I won't do it again" whines the standard phrase that he still thinks just gets him out of trouble. Aunte looks at him, points to the chair and shakes her head.
Dropping into the chair arms folded and the most "sourpuss" face he could find, he glares at his aunte.
From the other side of the pillar comes a voice: "I'm lonely over here, you could talk to me."
Simultaneously directing him to stay where he is, Aunte looks politely at the source of the statement and declines because he must take some quiet time as this is a behavior that is repeated and he must follow the logical consequences.
The reply that followed was "Tell him then that I am having an uncomfortable day and that this is making it more uncomfortable." Aunte was confused at how to convey to the lad that the situation was somehow making her uncomfortable more so than she already was, however she looked at him and mirrored his raised eyebrows and said "hmmmmm"
What came next was a surprise: the uncomfortable lady snidely looked at Aunte and said with much distaste, "not HIM; YOU!"
Aunte was shocked at the uncomfortable lady's response and simply turned her cheek away to comtemplate it. Just at that moment the lad's mom came around the corner and the three of them exited quietly nodding to the ladies as they left.
Again I have given you a piece of something that is true. How might you have reacted to the uncomfortable lady? I can tell you that I personally would have very mixed feelings about it. On one hand I would be offended at the audacity of the lady to accuse an adult who is kindly and quietly dealing with actions of a pre-school aged boy as being the reason for her level of comfort to be rising. On the other I also find that the quiet resolve with which she answered was appropriate for the situation of an elder and the location of the hospital.
If we consider how the generations might have handled this situation it is interesting to me that I also now consider culture and upbringing of both the Aunte and elder uncomfortable lady. It was brought to our attention that this lady had been brought from her room to the wrong area before having been brought to the Nuclear Medicine area and was taking her frustration out on any adult who would interact with her. She also took offense to the man on the stretcher being seen before her, despite his situation being more urgent than her own.
I am not certain as to what this woman's idea of how the young lad and his aunte could have possibly made her more or less uncomfortable, but her demeanor toward the two was not what I would have considered appropriate. I only know that I applaud the restraint of those who can refrain from adding to the conflict, take the brunt of the distaste of others and allow it roll off their backs.
Everyone know s the theory of the mud sliding downhill. It seems this is the same with the baggage of generations. Each of us in our experiences have found some to be quite pleasant while others are not something we talk about for one reason or another. When we consider the changes from one generation to the next we look at the differences in parenting, social cues and relations between strangers and friends.
I chose a quote from a man whom I have never met, a man whose courage and fortitude I admire but above all, his willingness and ability to forgive. I had nowhere near the childhood that this man did and if you don't know who he is I would suggest buying a box of tissues and reading his three books. Take your time to absorb and fully picture what you have seen in your mind through the descriptive words of this soft spoken man. Come full circle with his plight and share in his survival.
You may ask yourself why I am posting such a thing today. Well I guess it stems to this. In all our time on earth we make decisions. decisions that will affect others. We take what we have learned from our parents and either use it, throw it aside, or pick and choose. We also must somehow take into account how we felt as those circumstances or rewards were handed out. Were there things that would have meant more? or Less? Our childhood is the stem by which each petal of our personality grows.
I came from a home where essentially- until I was 11 it was me and my mom. I spent a lot of that time grounded to my room or the house or the basement etc because I broke the rules. It was the 70s and 80s and times were different. We weren't taking "time outs" - we were "sent to the corner" and by gosh your nose had better be touching the wall. Corporal punishment was allowed and was only recently forbidden in the public schools. Like most kids... I learned the rules and played the game. Ears tuned and awaiting the footsteps approaching that cued my movement to appear to be handling whatever task had been requested of me. I learned that -it was not how long it took... only that I was actually doing it. Unfortunately I missed a lot more than I learned.
What did I miss, well I'll tell you. While I spent those three days cleaning that 10x10 room-- my friends were riding bikes, roller skating, going to the park, watching tv, playing with GI-Joes, football, tag, playing in our 7 forts up in the woods, skateboarding, going to movies, dating, talking on the phone, going for sleepovers, having sleepovers, and NOT getting scolded. Another thing I missed... was the proud smile of a mother who saw obedience and respect in her only daughter.
Now, don't get me wrong... I was not that bad a kid. I did my homework, turned it in, practiced my violin and those silly eye exercises for hours. I didn't dare back talk (at least not often) because that made my face hurt and mom's hand sting. I pushed the limits though... within reason. There was some trauma in my early years that left me a messed up kid. I did good to block it out completely until puberty set in. Then little bits and pieces would creep in like an ivy taking over the corner of a room. By then I had a "step-father" again only this would be the one that would teach me something miraculous.
J taught me that there was more to discipline than standing in a corner, being sent to my room, corporal punishment or just plain yelling. He was the first person to talk to me like a human being, an equal-- which at the time I just wanted the spank and get it over with. It was what I knew. I was used to the knocks. Instead.... he would sit me on the couch in the corner of the living room, sit across from me and do the most horrifying thing in the world!!! TALK! He told me of his childhood and how things were different now. and how one day I would have to make the same decisions on discipline and how to hold myself in the world. Never did I imagine that his prim and proper behavior would one day be something fond and familiar to me. Something that I would use, even in the eyes of strangers.
Picture a small waiting room, five or six chairs with a large pillar in the middle. A young boy and his aunte impatiently awaiting the end of tests that seem to take forever. A man on a stretcher holds the attention and smiles of the boy for several minutes while two elder ladies come in to sit down. After the man is wheeled away, boredom once again sets in for the lad. A conversation ensues about what he thinks he is going do and she knows he is not going to. The conversation is quiet, so as not to disrupt the ladies also waiting in the area.
"I'm going to see mom"
"No, honey, I told you we must wait for mommy to come to us this time"
Grouchily he says; "I'm going to sit on the floor".
"Not here, sweetie, the floor is yucky, I need you to sit in the chair."
He starts to sit... "One." she says, ... "Two." with a quiet authority.
"I'm sorry Aunte, I won't do it again" whines the standard phrase that he still thinks just gets him out of trouble. Aunte looks at him, points to the chair and shakes her head.
Dropping into the chair arms folded and the most "sourpuss" face he could find, he glares at his aunte.
From the other side of the pillar comes a voice: "I'm lonely over here, you could talk to me."
Simultaneously directing him to stay where he is, Aunte looks politely at the source of the statement and declines because he must take some quiet time as this is a behavior that is repeated and he must follow the logical consequences.
The reply that followed was "Tell him then that I am having an uncomfortable day and that this is making it more uncomfortable." Aunte was confused at how to convey to the lad that the situation was somehow making her uncomfortable more so than she already was, however she looked at him and mirrored his raised eyebrows and said "hmmmmm"
What came next was a surprise: the uncomfortable lady snidely looked at Aunte and said with much distaste, "not HIM; YOU!"
Aunte was shocked at the uncomfortable lady's response and simply turned her cheek away to comtemplate it. Just at that moment the lad's mom came around the corner and the three of them exited quietly nodding to the ladies as they left.
Again I have given you a piece of something that is true. How might you have reacted to the uncomfortable lady? I can tell you that I personally would have very mixed feelings about it. On one hand I would be offended at the audacity of the lady to accuse an adult who is kindly and quietly dealing with actions of a pre-school aged boy as being the reason for her level of comfort to be rising. On the other I also find that the quiet resolve with which she answered was appropriate for the situation of an elder and the location of the hospital.
If we consider how the generations might have handled this situation it is interesting to me that I also now consider culture and upbringing of both the Aunte and elder uncomfortable lady. It was brought to our attention that this lady had been brought from her room to the wrong area before having been brought to the Nuclear Medicine area and was taking her frustration out on any adult who would interact with her. She also took offense to the man on the stretcher being seen before her, despite his situation being more urgent than her own.
I am not certain as to what this woman's idea of how the young lad and his aunte could have possibly made her more or less uncomfortable, but her demeanor toward the two was not what I would have considered appropriate. I only know that I applaud the restraint of those who can refrain from adding to the conflict, take the brunt of the distaste of others and allow it roll off their backs.