It really shouldn't come as a surprise that when you grow up, you enter the real world, and you have the work out and on the adult relationships in your life. And you have to deal with those pesky adult responsibilities. Yet, every once in a while, it hits me like a brick. This has been one of those weeks that sometimes you wish had never happened.
Issues of faith and religion are always going to be difficult, even when you were raised with the same ones, in the same family. No matter how much law and scripture your church hands out, there's always interpretation, and those infuriating independent thoughts that slip through the cracks. And this, this isn't even a matter of interpretation. This is just a plain determination to impose an interpretation.
Discussion is one thing; cruelty is another. Saying, I just can't talk about this right now, and we need to talk later is very different from hanging up the phone. Actually, the cruelty I can deal with. Not very well, because it's hurtful to hear it, but I can work through a moment of lapsed judgment, when those words just come right out.
I can't deal with the hanging up part. I don't live in Buffalo anymore. I live in Indianapolis. My relationship with my family is essentially a long distance relationship. Long distance relationship don't work if one of the people in it just hangs up on the other when things gets rough. Fortunately, for this past week, I've been in Buffalo, so I can go stand on someone's porch until they can't ignore me ringing the doorbell anymore. But those chances are few and far between.
I'm almost twenty four years old. I'm the baby of the family. And I'm tired of always taking the first steps towards making things better once again.
My Grandpa Glenn and Other Goings On
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