of Fallout.

September 1, 2010

So.
At first, I scrambled to discover what is was that I wrote that gave such grievous offense. Reading and re-reading, I thought that perhaps if someone was unfamiliar with my sarcasm, my penchant for points scored by illuminating the opposite and absurd, might come to a conclusion I’d not intended or hoped for.
In the end, I decided it must have been the accompanying photo. A parody, a ridiculous suggestion of the opposite of what I had wanted to convey.
It was, after all, what my Sister had pointed to in a vile and hateful email sent me. Railing the message and it’s unintended consequences.
It seems, it was not.
At first, I was mildly abashed. After some reflection, decided to remove the photo. I wrote my Mother and expressed regret at having given offense. Even though I was also shocked she might have ever perceived I held anything but love and admiration for such a wonderful Man.
I solicited input from friends. Thinking I should consider my inability to pursue in clarity, my love of words.
One, Alice, wrote and commented that my intent was clear to anyone that knew me. She pointed out that my Family obviously does not. She also acknowledged that she was indeed the inspiration for the post. Having told me a story about how her child had happened upon her “curling iron” and how she dealt with such a awkward moment.
Alice is a wonderful writer. One of my favorites. It seems though, she may well consider a different pursuit as well.
because…
Another vile and hateful message. This one though, relieved me of any doubt to what had given such offense but, more importantly, any culpability in any misconstrued sentiment.
It seems, even though Alice was so clear, my Mother believes my “curling iron” analogy was directed at her. Horrifying.
It seems we can find offense and slights wherever we look, if we want to see them. Even if they obviously (Thank you Alice) don’t exist.
So it seems.

3 Responses to “of Fallout.”

  1. Alice said

    Well, here we go again.

    Let me be clear: I’m the mother in the “of duplicity” piece. It was my curling iron. Mine.

    Let me also be clear on this: As a mother and sister myself, I imagine it would be very difficult to be estranged from my son or brother, and further, to reflect on the steps I took down the path that led to not knowing the boy who became a man, self-sufficient and able, evidently not needing me. In the end, it must be a relief to be wounded, to feel injured, to feel righteous outrage. This, this state of affairs of not knowing Roland–he did this.

    This is what comes from having a bad seed in the family. Right?

    Wrong. One, he’s not bad. He is good. (Good at what, you might ask. The answer is that he is good–period. He is a good person.)

    And two: he’s not in your family anymore.

    Cease and desist, already.

  2. K8 said

    what happened? No don’t tell me. Whoa. It sounds like your family is maybe a widdle bit cwazy? But I know nothing. Turn off imagination. Shut up now K8.

    • ofreh said

      The blog is public. So that’s that.
      I don’t generally opine private, personal issues but I’m estranged from my cwazy Family and as they chose this as an outlet to berate me and my intent, I chose to respond in kind.
      Let your imagination run wild. I doubt it could be anymore outlandish than the facts.

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