Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Awkward Moments

Did you know that Awkward is a difficult word to spell? No matter what, it just doesn't look right.

I had one of those moments this morning. I had called our help line to get assistance with a problem, and during the course of the conversation, this wonderfully friendly woman and I got into a conversation about kids and how you hope that they turn out, and how frustrating it is when parents continually bail out their kids. I'm sorry, but when you're 24 and you steal several thousand dollars, you need to pay the price for that! How else does a child learn responsibility? Anyway, I told her about my younger brother, who was constantly into things he shouldn't have been. At one point, I remember Mom calling me and telling me that Brad was in jail, and that if he called me, to NOT bail him out. Now, yes, Mom knows best, but I remember telling her that if he called, I would do what I could to help him. Hello, isn't that what siblings are for, to torment and to have each other's backs? Anyway. Wonderfully friendly woman then asked how he's doing now, if he got his life straightened out. . . . . Now's the hard part. I tell her that Brad was killed in a car accident several years ago, and . . . silence. "Oh, that's so awful. I'm so sorry". This is what I hate. I love talking about Brad, my memories of him, and every time I talk to someone new, I have to re-live him dying - like that was the highlight. I'm not over it - I don't believe you ever get over it, but you get past it. Time, and space, allow you to remember the good, laugh at the bad, and enjoy the memories. It's not like it happened yesterday, or last week - Many times I simply don't talk about it because I don't want to bring people down thinking about "how awful". I'd love suggestions on how to mention it and quickly moving on to the story that I wanted to share. Any tips and hints?


Coffee Bean said...

I don't know... That's a tough one. I used to mention my friend that killed herself in October fairly regularly. Now, when I remember something about her that I would normally share, I don't. Maybe that changes in time.