The Saint?
Yesterday I was happily reading and commenting on blogs when I heard a familiar sound. It was the methodical thump thump thump of my Mom's cane and it was coming up the stairs! She hates those stairs, so I just knew it had to be something rather dramatic to draw her back up here. She hasn't been up here since she moved, a week and a half ago.
It was. My younger brother, AKA "The King" or "Mighty Tom" had written her a letter. Unlike his usual letters, full of news about his boys, this one seemed rather sharp. I know because she let me read the first part of it. He was aggrieved because she had been to her former house (which he had purchased in February) and picked up a couple more items that she wanted for her new apartment. He had said many times, both verbally (I heard him) and in letters that she could take whatever she wanted from the house, go out there whenever she wanted, and even move back in, if she chose. MT and his family have since brought in new, posh furniture and things like a TV.
Mom was upset about this latest development and wanted to go out there immediately and pick up everything else she might need and then return the key to him. Plus we'd also need to get all of my books which have been stored in her basement for five years. I have, probably a dozen heavy boxes of books out there and did not really want to drive out on the spur of the moment and lug them all out of her basement and up the apartment stairs all by myself! And she has heavy and large items to get from there, too, my jeep wouldn't hold them all even if I was up to carrying all of the stuff alone. I figured we'd need yet another moving day, a truck and a crew to get her heavy cedar chest and other things from the house.
I offered her coffee and listened, as she said over and over again that MT "was not as wonderful" as she had thought, and other very provoking things. I itched to join in with my real opinion of MT, but refrained. Why add fuel to her fire?
For this restraint, my son (who had heard the whole thing and got up after she had left) called me "a saint". Because of all the comparisons to the perfect and dazzling MT and his family that Mom puts us through, this was a prime (and the only, so far) opportunity to get back at him.
Son has called me a saint before and says I don't have a mean bone in my body. Of course he's biased! But I hate meanness in anybody, most of all in myself and try very hard to be peaceful and kind. I guess it's my one virtue in an ocean of faults but I'm clinging on to it!
What's your top virtue, the one other people praise you for having?
It was. My younger brother, AKA "The King" or "Mighty Tom" had written her a letter. Unlike his usual letters, full of news about his boys, this one seemed rather sharp. I know because she let me read the first part of it. He was aggrieved because she had been to her former house (which he had purchased in February) and picked up a couple more items that she wanted for her new apartment. He had said many times, both verbally (I heard him) and in letters that she could take whatever she wanted from the house, go out there whenever she wanted, and even move back in, if she chose. MT and his family have since brought in new, posh furniture and things like a TV.
Mom was upset about this latest development and wanted to go out there immediately and pick up everything else she might need and then return the key to him. Plus we'd also need to get all of my books which have been stored in her basement for five years. I have, probably a dozen heavy boxes of books out there and did not really want to drive out on the spur of the moment and lug them all out of her basement and up the apartment stairs all by myself! And she has heavy and large items to get from there, too, my jeep wouldn't hold them all even if I was up to carrying all of the stuff alone. I figured we'd need yet another moving day, a truck and a crew to get her heavy cedar chest and other things from the house.
I offered her coffee and listened, as she said over and over again that MT "was not as wonderful" as she had thought, and other very provoking things. I itched to join in with my real opinion of MT, but refrained. Why add fuel to her fire?
For this restraint, my son (who had heard the whole thing and got up after she had left) called me "a saint". Because of all the comparisons to the perfect and dazzling MT and his family that Mom puts us through, this was a prime (and the only, so far) opportunity to get back at him.
Son has called me a saint before and says I don't have a mean bone in my body. Of course he's biased! But I hate meanness in anybody, most of all in myself and try very hard to be peaceful and kind. I guess it's my one virtue in an ocean of faults but I'm clinging on to it!
What's your top virtue, the one other people praise you for having?
8 Comments:
I am TOO patient. Too too patient.
I'm sure you've got way more virtus than just being nice and kind! You sound very patient as well.
Everyone tells me I am a patient person. It' nice to hear but they don't see the simmering frustration deep down inside! ;-)
I'm glad that she's had her eyes opened to how difficult MT can be...there's nothing as frustrating as hearing someone harp on about how wonderful someone else is, when you know the real person behind the 'smiley' words that they say (or write for that matter.)
My best virtue? Um...probably giving everyone the benefit of the doubt...and trusting everyone.
My virtue.... not good at analysing myself. I find it far too hard. (hence why the applications are so hard to do)
Maybe your brother is showing his true colours. Good for you for adding fuel to fire it would have been far to easy to do that and make the situation worse. Letyou Mum find out for herself
SO PBS yes I agree with your son ... you are a SAINT
Beats me.
Anyone with an ounce of patience is a saint in my book!
My best virtue...hmmmm i have no idea!
you are indeed a saint...i'm sure i wouldn't have been able to hold my tongue...
:0)
Intelligence...because I surround myself with dummies. Just kidding! Being kind and thoughtful...but that comes from mostly old people I've been around. I guess I have them fooled.
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