I
was typing an email to my folks earlier, and realized as I looked at
it that there are sort of three parts to any email or letter I write
to them. There’s the newsy part, where I tell what has been going
on, and keep them up to date on my life (though I often accidentally
leave out key details and get scolded later), random musings about
life in general, issues that I am concerned with, what I need to do
to improve myself, relationships, and the world around me, etc., and
rants. Bet you didn’t see that third subject coming :~).
I
find it totally natural to vent to my parents. It’s been the way
our family has worked since I can remember. Not that there’s
necessarily anything that bad in my life, but anything that I need to
talk about, I know I can talk to them about it.
We
used to do that when we were going home from church. Especially once
the stuff started that eventually led to us leaving the church. There
would be things happening at church, and when we got in the van to go
home, we would vent for a while. My Dad didn’t really like it at
first. He thought we were just complaining. But Mom told him that we
simply needed to get things out, and then we were fine.
And
that is so true. Usually, I don’t expect my folks to do anything. I
don’t tell them about issues with a friend, hoping that they will
go and talk to that friend and sort things out. In fact, I would be
furious if they did, and they know that. I’m not going to them to
get things fixed, but rather, to just have a listening ear. Or in
cases lately, a reading eye. There’s something about having someone
sympathetic to listen to you. Even if whatever you’re ranting about
really isn’t a big deal in the scheme of things, someone who cares
is good to have.
And
because I have that in my life, I try to do that for others. To
listen to their rants, and genuinely care about what they are talking
about, even if there is nothing I can do to help other than listen.
Compassion and caring. I think those are two things that are
important to everyone.
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