Times of a Lifetime

Through life, as many I have see a lot and lived through a lot.

I have learned that there isn't really much worth yelling about. To be mean about. To hurt someone about. I just wish so badly others could see that. Am I blesses or am I not.

I saw the joy of teasing a grandchild. He'd get a brownie and someone would swipe it. So he'd get another and someone would do it again. It was comical and he just wanted to taste that brownie so badly. Finally, his grandma was cutting the biggest brownie he ever had as he was patiently returned with his empty plate.

As he passed his mother who was carrying a piece of pie he accidentally knocked it out of her hand. She totally flipped out. Screaming and carrying on. Blaming the whole situation on everyone praking the youngster..

The grandmother just thought the whole situation was hysterical as she cleaned up the pie. What was funnier was what the daughter blamed everything on. She kept laughing. It was just a piece of pie.

The daughter finally became so mad she walked up to her own mother and told her to F--- herself. Out of her fury she accomplished what she meant to. She hurt her mother deeply.

Over a piece of pie she said something that she could never take back. Why wasn't she thinking? That would always be there.

There was a son. He lived further than his mother could usually afford to visit. She missed his family and him dearly. She just wanted time. Time to do things. She often asked for pictures but that was to much trouble.
She even gave them a camera she had.

Was there a reason he wouldn't do this. Why wouldn't he share? What did she do? He'd always say nothing but treat her the same. He'd always have time for in-laws which lived further away. They always went on trips together. When she'd visit their home she'd always see pictures of their trips. Never realizing her pain and loneliness she'd never understand often feeling like an outcast.

Why do people yell? Why do people hurt? Words can go deeper than a knife. With age and growth you should learn this. Realize this. One day can be too late. One instance.

The grandmother is gone now. So they won't have to worry and tell her their lies. They won't have to worry what they say. She won't be a concern any longer. She'll be a distant memory and once in awhile a thought. She may be missed for a second but that will pass as easily as it was when she was alive.

I often wonder, how do they feel now? Do they regret? Do they even care? Do they remember?