Rude People and the Painful Process of Forgiveness

       The other day I was at the grocery store with the children shopping for food when I had to deal with a very rude person. I was picking out my chicken and apparently taking too long because this woman storms over to where I'm standing, grabs my cart handle, which is touching my waist and gives it a shove away from me. She then steps next to me, definitely in my personal space but not touching me. I was quite shocked, having been busy trying to find a package that looked edible, and could only stare at her profile as she proceeded to find her piece of chicken, all the while making loud huffing noises at me.
      She angrily grabs her chicken and walks heavily away from me, never saying anything and leaving my poor cart where she had shoved it out of her way. I was mad and quite astounded at her poor manners.
      A simple and polite 'excuse me' would have worked wonders for her if she couldn't wait one or two minutes for her turn. I guess she missed those lessons in kindergarten.
     Or perhaps she's royalty and I didn't notice the crown. In that case I should have offered to push her cart through the entire store for her. Or, even though she looked well dressed, elegant and stylish, maybe that was a disguise and she was actually an escapee from Miss Manner's Academy for Rude Adults.
      I'm not sure what her reasons were for being rude and I doubt she has a good enough excuse to justify just how improper she was behaving. I do know from the way she was acting that she thought I was the one in the wrong, which is ridiculous since I was shopping and not talking on my cell phone or texting while blocking the groceries.
     But with all that being said, what is really bothering my state of mind about the entire situation is me. Yes, I didn't do anything wrong. I know there are extremely rude people in the world. And even if she was having a bad day, it's no excuse for treating someone else so rudely. Life is hard enough, we all need manners to remember our humanity. But over a week later I'm still letting it bother me. I can feel my body tense up when I think about it. I laugh when I tell the story to friends but on the inside I'm still upset over the thirty second incident.
     I'm not sure why. Perhaps, because I didn't say anything to her in response to her actions and so feel trampled on. There is a certain amount of resentment that builds up when injustice is quietly taken, even for such, small insignificant conflicts with rude people.
    No matter the reason, I need to forgive. Not condone. Somehow it is possible to forgive without condoning the action but it's not always easy to offer forgiveness.
     The nice thing about being a writer that it always helps to write something down, because then I can let it go. Seeing the words is a release. Like water on the back of a duck. I can take a deep breath and it isn't thick and tight with resentment.
    Forgiveness helps protects our health. It clears our mind, sweeps out the debris of our anger.
     And it can be amazing. A few years ago I almost died. In fact, I spent two years almost dying. It was a difficult and lonely time. When I started healing I became friends with a coworker of hero hottie and it was so nice to enjoy life again.
     But then she moved away and our chats and visits were fewer and fewer but we were still friends, until one visit when she never talked to me again. We had a wonderful time and then she avoided all my emails and phone calls. I didn't understand and I was greatly hurt. After going through such a difficult period in my life and then to find a friend, only to be completely torn apart, I was devastated. I didn't even know what I had  done wrong. I spent weeks trying to figure out why she had so suddenly stopped being my friend. I already was experiencing a fear of embracing life because of how close I had come to exiting and it certainty didn't help to feel rejected.
     I also kept the hurt of what happened in my heart and over the years it grew darker and more bitter. Instead of just pain it was now anger swirling in my gut every time I thought of her. It also made me nervous of making new friends. Why risk friendship when it could end so painfully?
    And then a few weeks ago I had a dream. In this dream I forgave her and when I woke the bitterness was missing. The old anger was gone and I instantly realized that I should have forgiven her so long ago. Forgiveness wasn't condoning the pain she had caused me, but it was allowing me to let go of the anger. So then, I decided to actually ask her why she had treated me in such a way.
      "I want to know why you stopped being my friend?" I asked her, quite matter of factly, but shaking from nerves on the inside.
      She was quite surprised to see me and a bit puzzled over my question. And then she answered and shocked me. "I didn't. You did. Your child said you weren't sure if we were friends."
      "What? You stopped talking to me." I said.
      "Because I thought you didn't want to be friends." She looked as confused as I felt. "She said you were talking to your mom and said we weren't friends."
       "You stopped talking to me because my small child said something from a conversation she didn't fully understand and you took it at face value without talking to me?"
        She shrugged, clearly starting to wonder if she should have just believed a small child without verifying facts.
       I almost laughed. "I was worried about our friendship, since you moved. She didn't understand the entire conversation." (Note to self, don't repeat anything in front of ornery child who thinks she understands adult conversations and knows she can improve on them.)
       I spent a few years being angry and without dreaming about forgiveness would never have talked to her. And nothing would have been straightened out.
       Which brings me to other side of forgiveness, the part where sometimes we have to ask for it. Last week I said something about a loved one, completely joking but easily misconstrued as hurtful, which I didn't mean at all. Unfortunately, I said this joke in front of my ornery child and she decided to repeat it to the one person I didn't want to hear what I had said. And now I feel bad for my big mouth.
      I tried to apologized but I don't think it was well received. Hopefully, my sibling realizes I wasn't trying to be hurtful and I always hate using words improperly. Me and my big mouth.
      But it is a good reminder why forgiving is important. Because no matter how hard we try, at some point (and sometimes a few times a week), we're on the side of needing forgiveness for our actions. I guess we're just human. Imperfect, sometimes grouchy and really good at not communicating well. Ask anyone who has been married for years, the ability to forgive is important.
      I tell you what though, forgiving and waiting to be forgiven, is not easy. But it's worth it because I was tired of being mad at the rude grocery lady. I can even hope she enjoyed her chicken.

Why We Need Good Dads

     I think every child should be blessed with great parents. The world would be such a better place if everyone had parents that were responsible, caring, generous, and  followed the golden rule. And since today is Father's Day, lets talk about Dads in general. Because where would we be without great Dads?
     This discussion is going to stick to the things that make a wonderful Dad. I'm not talking about the males that deposit their 23 chromosomes, a monthly check and a whole lot of heartache. Just about any guy can become a parent, not all of them make a good Dad. 
     I have a great Dad and I know it. I try not to take that fact for granted. And maybe because I realize just how lucky I am, most of my stories feature characters that are orphans and they have to find their own way in the world.
      Now Dads are completely and wonderfully different than Moms. (Great Moms are a blessing too and since I didn't have the time to write about them around Mother's Day, sometime this summer I will discuss them).
     Here are five rough and tumble ways why Dads earn a day of appreciation.
    
     #1. Moms are usually in charge of our nutritional needs, that's why cookies are outlawed before dinner time, for breakfast and in quantities of more than one. But Dads don't know these rules. They appreciate a good chocolate chip or peanut butter cookie. So the rule in my house was if you wanted a second cookie or absolutely needed one right before dinner, bypass Mom (who was busy anyway) and ask Dad. Not only would he say yes, he would join you and usually share more than one too.

      #2. Nice days are for mowing the grass and raking leaves. But Dads love the idea of taking it easy too. They're almost always up to an extra game of catch, an afternoon of fishing, a hike through the park or an all evening bike ride.

      #3. Bedtime to a Dad, unless he's trying to watch a television show or check emails, means that it is time to get rowdy. This, for some odd reason to a Dad, is the best time to chase the kids around the house causing them to scream, hide and giggle. It's the perfect time to toss small children so high in the air Moms are sure kids are going to end up bruised. And then when the kids are completely wound up and using their beds as trampolines, Dads decide to go back to what they were doing and it's Mom's time to tuck them in.


      #4. Dads understand that Moms are just being overly nervous about the entire learning to drive thing when Moms come home from teaching you how to drive and they're threatening to never take you out again. I beg to differ, the line of cars parked along the side of the road were still half an inch away from my car and were in no danger of being side swiped. Dads understand this and they will risk getting into the car with you so you can finish learning to drive. And besides they make you feel better when you fail your first driving test.

      #5. They believe in you. They're the first ones to let go of the back of the bike, to have the patience to teach you to skip rocks and have enough faith in you that eventually you can learn algebra. At least enough of it to pass the math class. And they won't even tell anyone that you were crying over negative and positive numbers.


     Bonus Reason: They're also the last threat in Mom's arsenal of weapons. If she has already used your full name, grounded you and took away your favorite show, then if she reaches the 'you just wait until your Father gets home...'
     Well, good luck. Because Dads are also good at reminding you that you might have taken it too far. Frustrating but it helps you turn into a decent human being. :) 

      So I don't have a study to reference to prove my point. But I have to conclude anyway,  I know we need good Dads in the world. My Dad is eating ice cream sundaes with his grandkids this afternoon and still enjoys getting the children wound up at just the 'right' time.
      Hero hottie gets a whole big grilled dinner with lots of manly foods and plenty of hugs from his children. I'm a lucky gal, I had a wonderful Dad and I married a man who is a great Father to our children. So Happy Father's Day to all the men in my life.

P.S.- According to my youngest, Dads are also great because they're like big, hairy gorillas that wrestle you all the time.

Absence Makes my Heart Ache for my Laptop

Zombies vs. Computer Eating Viruses
Zombies- 0 point
Computer Eating Viruses: 1 Point

The winner: Me, but only by a slight margin and with a lot of help from my Dad, who is like a computer genius. (Yes, I'm bragging but he's great with computers. He's a network administer at a school district and can pretty much solve any computer problem.)

And because my Dad is a computer whiz, my computer is blocked by a powerful firewall, virus protection programs and a host of other things that I don't know the names to but I do know that they work. Except for this computer eating virus that came out of nowhere and devoured my computer whole. One minute I'm browsing orthodontic sites (don't shake your heads in disagreement, I have those sorts of sites blocked to protect my children) and the next I'm being told by a pop up screen to download an eighty dollar program to save my computer.
     I refused such acts of terrorism and they, whoever the creeps are, decided to wipe the programs off my computer, hide all my documents and photo files and destroy my operating system. They were like zombies and zeroed right in for the brains of my computer.
     I was almost crying with frustration. Most of my files are backed up, I am a child of a computer guy, but not all of them. And how their program ever managed to sneak pass all the levels of security on my computer is just amazing. Terrible but amazing.
     No, zombies did not eat my laptop and my wonderful, addictive access to the Internet. After a week my Dad was finally able to save my files and my computer. He had to download my files onto another computer to even gain access to my writings and my photos and then he had to completely wipe everything off my computer and reinstall my operating system.
        But for a week I didn't have my computer. What to do with myself? Of course, I did find things to do before AOL graced itself on my computer in the nineties but now I didn't have access to writing my blog, to editing my writings, to preparing my photos to sell them or to surfing the Internet.
      In desperation, which shows you just how much time I shouldn't be spending on the web, I took my iPod and tried to read all the websites that keep me informed of all the terrible things happening in the world right now. The print was tiny, the scrolling was impossible, and typing involved feats of patience that I usually only need when trying to get children ready for school on time.
     So I gave up. (and you can't type an entire blog entry on an iPod. You need the patience of a Saint or the fingers of a 24/7 texting teenager.) In the meantime, I didn't spend as much time stressing myself out over all the crises in the world that I can't do anything about anyway. And I have to admit it was pleasant. I didn't have to worry about zombie attacks, stupid news that focuses on politicians showing off their supposed assets instead of reporting real news, or wondering whatever human hair really is used to make a dough conditioner used to bake bread. (Tasty. Have you had your human hair today?)
      And I'm sure that now that my computer is back up and running, I'll be back to checking on the status of the entire world and the ingredients used in products that I'm sure our Grandma's didn't have on their pantry shelves. But this forced hiatus has reminded me that I don't need instant access to unfolding events. Life is too short to be worrying all the time. I need to save my worrying for more important things...like wondering about the dietary preferences of zombies; do they prefer bread with human hair in it or do they stick to the usual low carb/high brain diets? And how would I figure out these life altering questions if I didn't have my wonderful computer?