52 Weeks 500 Words
This is how it began: Justine (not her real
name) decided to write 500 words (or as near as), anything goes, per week for 52
weeks. She would then submit it for anonymous posting, via me, her friend.
Perhaps a pattern will emerge from her words, but at this stage it’s more an
experiment I have agreed to share in. I’ll attempt to draw conclusions at the
end of this. Stay tuned if this resonates with you.
Week 12
Well, as I sit here to pen my weekly unload (virtually, of
course!), I find myself giving thought to family dynamics. I do this mostly
because a friend was in tears to me earlier, having had a run-in with her son.
I have no family. I am actually alone in the world. My
parents have passed on, and I have no children. While I am still ‘young’ enough
to do so, I don’t think it will come to pass, and this is largely based on my
own selfishness … or a feeling of desperation. I can barely afford to keep
myself, how can I do even think of being responsible for a child? I guess if I
meet a man able to take care of me and our child, or children, that might
change, but I don’t see it happening. I do not trust easily and I may sabotage
most relationships to avoid that kind of responsibility. I know this about
myself. I admit it.
However, from conversations and eye-witnessing, I realise
families come with inherent issues. Maybe it’s genetics, for it seems to me
often there are personalities very much alike in one microcosm unit. For
instance, father and son. They may be so alike, without ever admitting it to
each other, that they are at constant loggerheads. While mom ends up in the
background wondering just what the hell she did wrong. Or sometimes right. Mother
and daughter may also be so similar that they end up arch enemies because they
do not see themselves in each other.
Having viewed multiple family relationships, I have come to
this conclusion. We are all too selfish to admit we are wrong, and this leads
to those family issues that never seem to be resolved. For instance, a friend
just phoned me earlier and told me she has just realised that her oldest son is
a younger version of his father, and that means he is as judgemental as they
come. She was in tears, and all I could say to her was that they are both grown
men and they have to accept responsibility for themselves. As much as it may
hurt her, it isn’t her duty to fix them. All she can do is guide and offer
advice…when they are in a frame of mind to listen.
Having heard this latest snippet of agony, I am more
convinced than ever that my decision to date has been the right one. I hope,
though, I don’t die lonely and bitter, because I didn’t see the bigger picture.
The one about immortality
through the generations. The one about love despite all the issues. Does love
make the world go round? I hope so, for my friend’s sake.'
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