I'm probably 9 or 10 and I'm looking for my notebook -the one I've saved for drawing all my crazy characters and superhero plans and gadgets. I couldn't find it until Pabing said she had it and returned it to me not knowing it was used by anyone anymore (there are many discarded half used notebooks lying around the house). I was going to start drawing only to find out as I opened up the pages that she had drawn on several pages some designs for women's clothing. I got so angry and fumed that my notebook was now ruined and tried to express my displeasure by making weird half tantrum type sounds and gestures. I think for a time I even held a grudge, but eventually found a new notebook.
I've recently uncovered that notebook and scanned the pages of her drawings and realized how stupid I was. Looking back now, I wish I realized that it was just a notebook and that I could have gotten another a thousand times better than that one notebook easily. I wish I could have seen past my own selfishness and could have been nicer to her that time.
She didn't particularly get treated well around the house. She was often called slow, which was only true because she was in a house of hurried control freaks. She had served our house for a long time and was already near her fifties if I'm not mistaken though I could not ever remember her having any friends or family visit. Life is tough. Her life must have been tougher. Although I think I was closest to her because we would share stories and jokes, not a common thing with everyone else in the house, I still regret that one incident greatly. Maybe, despite her time passing by, she still dreamed to design clothes and that it was her escape and little joy. And there I was a stupid kid not seeing that.
Had I seen past my own self, I would have given her a thousand notebooks. I would have talked to her and listened a little more seriously when she confided in me that she was afraid she was dying. She would pass away two weeks later from a cancer no one knew she had and I wasn't even there. I tear up at the thought of how lonely she must have been.
These memories remind me why I've tried to be a nicer person in the past. I remember now the more important lessons I need to remember.
....
"Were we fully to understand the reasons for other people's behavior, it would all make sense." -Sigmund Freud
I've recently uncovered that notebook and scanned the pages of her drawings and realized how stupid I was. Looking back now, I wish I realized that it was just a notebook and that I could have gotten another a thousand times better than that one notebook easily. I wish I could have seen past my own selfishness and could have been nicer to her that time.
She didn't particularly get treated well around the house. She was often called slow, which was only true because she was in a house of hurried control freaks. She had served our house for a long time and was already near her fifties if I'm not mistaken though I could not ever remember her having any friends or family visit. Life is tough. Her life must have been tougher. Although I think I was closest to her because we would share stories and jokes, not a common thing with everyone else in the house, I still regret that one incident greatly. Maybe, despite her time passing by, she still dreamed to design clothes and that it was her escape and little joy. And there I was a stupid kid not seeing that.
Had I seen past my own self, I would have given her a thousand notebooks. I would have talked to her and listened a little more seriously when she confided in me that she was afraid she was dying. She would pass away two weeks later from a cancer no one knew she had and I wasn't even there. I tear up at the thought of how lonely she must have been.
These memories remind me why I've tried to be a nicer person in the past. I remember now the more important lessons I need to remember.
....
"Were we fully to understand the reasons for other people's behavior, it would all make sense." -Sigmund Freud
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