Thursday, January 19, 2006

Fire

Sometimes there isn't anything to say, except that the problem is bigger than we are. Bigger than all of us. I cannot expect them to respond to his crisis in the way that I'd like them to--in the way that he needs them to. It's unrealistic. They are people rendered incapable. By circumstances not chosen. By ignorance. By disbelief. By their own pain. By fear. By a belief system that focuses on prayer and hope to move things along--as people lay dying, suffering in the wake of such. People are busy. People work. People have lives, responsibilities, bills to pay. People have five grown children. People wouldn't know crisis, or how to prevent it, if it kicked them in the face.

I'm tired of the hypocrisy. Hypocrisy is everywhere. I know. I get that. But I'm angry, in particular, with this hypocrisy. The preached dogma that family is important, the most important and then this. The clear message that family doesn't come first. Not him. Not her. Not me. Not any of us. Family comes first when it is convenient and fits into the schedule and doesn't interfere with previous commitments. I have learned that family only comes first when someone cries "fire." And even then it's debatable. And even then this is better than nothing. I think.

1 comment:

suestew said...

Sometimes you can't say anything to the people that hurt you (and others) the most. Partly because they can't understand and likely get defensive but also because it's too emotionally draining for everyone involved. In an ideal world, we would all go to family counseling and try and work through these issues with a therapist but I realize that may be too difficult for you and me both. But I would really like the two of us to go and see Sandy again if you are feeling up to it.