Speak

"Think twice before you speak and you'll find everyone talking about something else."
- Rodman

I have a confession to make. You, my dear readers, are driving me insane. I know you're reading because you call me, you email me and yes, you even text me. But you aren't commenting. I've told you all that you can do so completely anonymously. And you can say anything you'd like. Just please, comment here. I promise that if you do, others will follow suit and we can have really interesting discussions that might just provoke more writing. Sounds good, right?

I've been thinking a great deal about the power of words, for several reasons. As you are well aware, I've been trying to learn how to use my voice. Growing up the way I did, raised largely by a grandmother that always spoke for me, I was never required to speak as a child. My mother moved me away from her as soon as she was financially able, and that's when we landed in Athens, Greece. There, I found a voice (largely encouraged by being a teenager with ready access to alcohol, no doubt) and I exercised it constantly. Is it coincidental that some of my fondest memories are of my time in Athens? I came back for college, where I found a father and stepmother that were all too happy to dictate my life, then in an effort to escape, married a man that not only spoke for me but spoke so much that I wouldn't have had the opportunity had I chosen to use it.

Yes, words do have weight. And yes, there's a healthy balance between saying what you need to say and saying what you want to say. Words must be chosen with intent but the intent must be true to who you are. And it's like someone else's grandmother probably said, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." Or, as my grandmother used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, say something nasty - with a smile."

So, these are the thoughts floating in and out of my brain today when my poor, Pox-y boy says to me, "Mom, can we please take another drive. I'm bored." We pile in the car and head west. I'm thinking that we'll just drive out to Spicewood and find a place to look at the lake and chat a bit, but along the way, I get hungry. I find this horrid looking little shack of a barbecue joint and decide that we'll just go in and have lunch together. That's one thing we rarely get to do anymore, I figure it will be empty enough that no one will care about his infectious disease and I also figure that if they do, at least we're not in Austin.

The place is desolate, bar the table of three very well dressed men. We are seated right next to them, my son and I have been home alone together for the last 4 days - all day. Turns out we're pretty much talked out. I even tell him a story about my father's misspent youth. With practically nothing left to discuss under the sun, I begin to eavesdrop on the conversation the men seated next to me are having.

Once again, I'm floored that the Universe conspires and forces me to face something I hadn't expected to encounter.

Truth be told, it's hard to call it eavesdropping - they were speaking quite loudly. I won't recant the entire story, I listened to them for the better part of an hour, but two of the men (who were not wearing wedding rings) were trying to convince the one man (who was) not to leave his wife.

Their arguments were predictable, and I found it terribly amusing that they were telling this man how "God wants him to stay in his marriage." 

Had my son not been with me, I would have offered a slightly different perspective. Since he was with me, I offer you a slightly different perspective:

It is completely unacceptable to remain in a marriage that is unfulfilling.  It's a crime against yourself, and no God wants that.  Children will survive the turmoil, as long as you are honest with them and continue to nurture them.  You cannot remain in a situation that is "good enough" at best.  Good enough is not good enough.  Period.