It has been a long time since I have made a post on my blog. The reasons for this are many, and I won’t go into all of them now. There have been some changes in my life and my time management which have not allowed me to spend the time I would like to update this blog on a regular basis, but every once in a while I feel the need to come out of the darkness and stick my head up and make some noise. So here goes.
This post will not be about my usual topics of weight loss, theater, or my own personal struggles. In my life I am identified by several titles: Husband, Performer, Goofball, etc. But one of the titles that I hold most dear is that of Father. I am lucky enough to be the Father of four wonderful children; Children I would do anything for, take any chance for, do whatever I can to provide for them and protect them. At times, they have gone through very harrowing trials, both physically, mentally and emotionally, and I find it hard to sit back and not be a vocal advocate for my children. And that is what sparks my post today.
Every parent will sympathize with seeing your child do something that you yourself might not do, but of which you can understand the reasoning for them doing. My wife and I have had many conversations with our kids in which the phrase, “Well, I wouldn’t have done it quite like that, but…” has been spoken. And that gets a bit more weight when your kids are adults. There are choices made that you would not do, but with which you can completely sympathize. Several days ago, my daughter had a very difficult few days. She has had some frustrations at work, spent several hours in the rain helping run an aide station for a marathon, and, in a final coup de grace, had played a violin solo in church in which the tremors she sometimes has affected her playing so badly that she felt it was the worst she had ever played. I wasn’t there to witness it, but I know how this tremor can affect her, and I know how seriously she takes her music. She came home from church in tears. She was so mad at herself for the way it had gone.
Then she did something that I would not have done, but with which I completely sympathize. She posted on Facebook. She posted a short message that vented her frustrations with the day and several other things. She did it in a way that very clearly expressed her feelings of the moment, but which I most likely would not have done. She used a word that is not usually associated with genteel comment. A word that can be shocking. And, although most people expressed their understanding of her frustration and ironic verbal counterpoint, some people were quick to express dismay, shock, and disapproval of her use of hyperbole. There was an initial worry that her account had been hacked, but once this was dismissed (apparently by my daughter’s lack of apology or dismissal of the post), they were quick to express their disapproval of this post. And I can understand that, but what she needed at that moment was for someone to reach out to her with comfort, care, and commiseration. Two people who DID do that were her Bishop and his wife. While not approving of the content, they know my daughter and knew that her frustration and self-defeating feelings were at a high, and that she really needed support and love.
Now I want to be quick to say that I am not angry at those who recriminated my daughter for her post. I understand their point of view. I understand their shock and reactions. I think they are overreacting. While I might not post something like that, I completely understand my daughter’s feelings and really have no problem that she posted it. I find that far too many people take a comment tossed aside, whether in face to face conversation or, more often, an online forum, and proceed to make a much bigger deal about it than if they just dismissed the comment and went on with their lives. Quite frankly, that is one of my pet peeves about our new online social society. Everyone feels like they have the privilege and even the need to comment publicly on everything that spews forth from the Facebook, the Pinterest, even the Twitter. I’m reminded of a line from a movie, “I don’t know what your generation’s fascination is with documenting your every thought… but I can assure you, they’re not all diamonds. ‘Roman is having an OK day, and bought a Coke Zero at the gas station. Raise the roof.’ Who [cares]?” I think this also goes for the comment section. I seldom comment on a post, even to say, “Hey, congrats!” or “Oh, so sorry!” It all seems like so much ‘me, too’-ing. There are those times that comments are requested, or when someone really puts a lot of thought into a comment, but most of them are just a way of saying, ‘hey, I saw this, too.’
At the end of the day, so to speak, my daughter hid the post from public view. It was just easier to do that then to keep seeing the posts coming in about what she had posted in a moment of extreme frustration. While I tend to dislike posts of this type, it was a bit of a cry for help, or at least support, with a bit of our family’s signature sarcasm. It was met with attack, however gently given, instead of love and support. That is almost sadder than the fact that she felt awfully enough to post it.
No quote of the day or witty comments. I’m just not in the mood.