WHITE-WALKER: Weighty words

By Karen White-Walker

Okay, so you weren’t born into the greatest family, you’ve had to struggle for every earned fifty cents, and when you get up in the morning, the first words out of your vulgar tasting mouth are, “If I’m part of some Divine Plan, God sure must have some sense of humor.” So laugh, He does.

Don’t think we all aren’t carrying around enough emotional baggage to sink the Bismarck. How can we not be when most of our family members and friends are smarter, cuter and more successful then we are, but really, that shouldn’t over-shadow our uniqueness.

Have you ever met two people who are exactly alike? Of course not, and that’s why everybody has the potential of becoming terribly interesting. But just try telling them that and they eye you suspiciously.

“I’ve never met anybody quite like you before,” you’ll excitedly confess.

“Just what the hell does that mean? You tryin’ to tell me I don’t fit in?”

“I…I did … didn’t mean that at all,” you’ll stutter, but the damage has already been done. Speaking of damage, it’s no secret that our family constantly reinforces our attributes and downplays our flaws. That’s a very heady feeling, but if you think it has always been that way, you’re crazy. Now see, I’ll probably lose half of my faithful following because I’ve called you all crazy. Believe me, when I was growing-up hearing that would have been considered a real compliment.

As a teenager I had such a horrific complexion that people actually thought I had smallpox, not just acne, but smallpox. I never quite figured out why the boys would invite me to the school dances, but they did.

“It’s so dark in there so they really can’t see you — thank God. ” my sister Mary Paula was so quick to point out.

When we verbally sparred she’d yell out, “ Pimple face. ” and I’d shout back, “Cat eyes. ’ We ‘hated’ each other, but for years and years now, we’ve adored one another. That’s what happens when you don’t dwell on all the past hurts and put-downs. But can you believe that my wonderful mother once said something worse than pimple face? That’s right, hard to fathom when you figure what an incredible person she is.

“Is this how you don’t dwell?” she wearily asked. “Must you remember everything?”

“Mother, I think when one can share their hurts with others, real healing can be realized.”

“Here we go — another darn column. How many times do I have to tell you that mothers never quite fully recover after giving birth? You weighed two and a half pounds when you were born, stayed in an incubator for over three months, and when you survived it was a miracle — a miracle. Your father and I walked every day to the hospital, because we didn’t own a car. We cried when you were born, cried when we almost lost you, cried for our sore throbbing feet, and cried when we brought you home.”

“Well, when I was five I cried when you threw up in an argument, “You’re nothing but such a nosey little thing, couldn’t even wait the full nine months to come into this world.”

Pimple face and nosey, try living your whole life with that. But I’ve forgiven my mom and sister for saying such rubbish, and they’ve forgiven me for sharing such stuff. That’s only possible, you know, when you don’t dwell on all the past hurts and put-downs.

Weighty Words

Okay, so you weren’t born into the greatest family, you’ve had to struggle for every earned fifty cents, and when you get up in the morning, the first words out of your vulgar tasting mouth are, “If I’m part of some Divine Plan, God sure must have some sense of humor.” So laugh, He does.

Don’t think we all aren’t carrying around enough emotional baggage to sink the Bismarck. How can we not be when most of our family members and friends are smarter, cuter and more successful then we are, but really, that shouldn’t over-shadow our uniqueness.

Have you ever met two people who are exactly alike? Of course not, and that’s why everybody has the potential of becoming terribly interesting. But just try telling them that and they eye you suspiciously.

“I’ve never met anybody quite like you before,” you’ll excitedly confess.

“Just what the hell does that mean? You tryin’ to tell me I don’t fit in?”

“I…I did … didn’t mean that at all,” you’ll stutter, but the damage has already been done. Speaking of damage, it’s no secret that our family constantly reinforces our attributes and downplays our flaws. That’s a very heady feeling, but if you think it has always been that way, you’re crazy. Now see, I’ll probably lose half of my faithful following because I’ve called you all crazy. Believe me, when I was growing-up hearing that would have been considered a real compliment.

As a teenager I had such a horrific complexion that people actually thought I had smallpox, not just acne, but smallpox. I never quite figured out why the boys would invite me to the school dances, but they did.

“It’s so dark in there so they really can’t see you — thank God. ” my sister Mary Paula was so quick to point out.

When we verbally sparred she’d yell out, “Pimple face.” and I’d shout back, “Cat eyes. ’ We ‘hated’ each other, but for years and years now, we’ve adored one another. That’s what happens when you don’t dwell on all the past hurts and put-downs. But can you believe that my wonderful mother once said something worse than pimple face? That’s right, hard to fathom when you figure what an incredible person she is.

“Is this how you don’t dwell?” she wearily asked. “Must you remember everything?”

“Mother, I think when one can share their hurts with others, real healing can be realized.”

“Here we go — another darn column. How many times do I have to tell you that mothers never quite fully recover after giving birth? You weighed two and a half pounds when you were born, stayed in an incubator for over three months, and when you survived it was a miracle — a miracle. Your father and I walked every day to the hospital, because we didn’t own a car. We cried when you were born, cried when we almost lost you, cried for our sore throbbing feet, and cried when we brought you home.”

“Well, when I was five I cried when you threw up in an argument, “You’re nothing but such a nosey little thing, couldn’t even wait the full nine months to come into this world.”

Pimple face and nosey, try living your whole life with that. But I’ve forgiven my mom and sister for saying such rubbish, and they’ve forgiven me for sharing such stuff. That’s only possible, you know, when you don’t dwell on all the past hurts and put-downs.

Karen White-Walker is a Wilson resident. Her column appears every Tuesday.