Found my Dad passed away.
Mom was very sick and I took care of her the last 4 years of her life.
She passed away - my reason for living.
Then my biological Dad passed away.
I'm only child, so now I am have no one left.
It's a real sad, drab story. I live alone, no roommate, or siblings and now no relatives left.
Just me.
Luckily I have God and my love (Lily, a ferocious white pitbull).
But as I tell my sob story to others, they all show empathy and can relate sometimes on some level. Want to hug me (even strangers), want to adopt me, etc. They are pained by my heartbreaks.
And then one day I was swapping sad stories with a lady I had just met at dinner and she finally says, "stop, there's really not more is there? That's enough sad talk."
It dawned on me right then and there that while I have been eager to share my woes and my "look at all the bad things that have happened to me" stories with others, maybe they don't want to hear it.
Maybe, just maybe, they would rather I talk about what a loving child I was, or how I was raised in the Hill Country along the Frio River, or that I have a great job that I love, or that I'm a State and National Billiards Champion.
All these years of pain all I wanted to do was share my heartache. Get some sympathy or empathy, I guess. It was what I lived and breathed every day so it was what I wanted to talk about. Instead, it makes sense: why would anyone want to hear about so much pain?
Sure, share with me your heartache and I can relate with all that has happened in my life. But what if we swap awesome stories instead? What if I never even mention how horrible my holidays are again to anyone? What if I just share all the blessings in my life and STOP with the insistent sharing of all the loss and deaths and sadness for the last 7 years?
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