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Daily Archives: December 3, 2017
December Writing Challenge Day 3 (Day 33) Suicide. Geez. What a topic. I like to make light of things but there’s not a light side to this. So I plan to tread carefully, and let me apologize ahead of time if I inadvertently step wrong with my words. I am rarely eloquent. I am always sincere when it comes to something serious. Suicide will touch most of us at one time or another. I got a little practice while working as a dispatcher. As much as you can, in any case. We had these books, a protocol of questions to ask your caller for pretty much any life or death situation. But the callers always wanted to ask us the questions. And it was always the same: “WHY???” The short answer was we didn’t know, and it wasn’t for us to know. The long answer is as follows: Debt and gambling problems. People think they are worth more dead than they are alive and that their loved ones would be better off without them. So they take matters into their own hands and we’re left holding the pieces. Pain. I once knew a mighty fine man. When he was younger, he played professional baseball. He hurt his back. He was never the same. Time went by, he became successful at his career. He married and raised children. The pain never left him. So, at the brink of retirement…
I was taught to lie at a young age. I also had my butt busted at a young age for lying about the least little thing. It did not occur to me until this morning, at 38 and a half years old, that I was brought up a liar. I was frying bacon and eggs for a sandwich. I thought, “Oh, goody! We can use our new Christmas plates since this is just a sandwich and we don’t need big plates.” I then went over to the table and felt their heft as I lifted them. Maybe this wasn’t such a bright idea. I broke my new turtle glass the other day, and I didn’t want to risk these so early in their life. What if I couldn’t replace them? I mean, they’re just Wal-Mart plates but I really like them. No, not the Pioneer Woman ones they’re pushing. These are the Twelve Days of Christmas. I could just see me washing them and their soapy slickness slipping through my grasp and thirteen million pieces as it went everywhere. So I set the plate back down and thought, “Lets not and say we did.” Which. Is. A. LIE. But that’s a passable lie, since it was always used in jest. Like when I wanted to do something that nobody else did, like go to the store, or…
