last words

I know, some of your are hoping this is my last blog. Seems I cause nothing but trouble. But I won't stop writing because someone here or there doesn't want to know what I have to say. Because someone else misinterpreted my words or, worse, used them to validate their own issues. I've had that happen way too often lately. Something rings true and you think OMG they are talking about me!! Yeah, you, and 5,000 others.

Back to today's topic. Last words. What do you want yours to be? For all those close to you, or those you've distanced yourself from? Today is 9/11/11. An anniversary for America, and not a happy one. A day we remember the sudden and terrifying loss of so many Americans. Fathers and Mothers, Sisters and Brothers. Going about their daily lives, some who were everyday heroes in uniform who became, if it's possible, extraordinary heroes.

For many people today is painful for reasons even now they can't come to grips with. There are stories from people I know that make me sad and want to hug them and tell them they couldn't have known. And they say yeah, we should've known. People who have lived with a guilt that knows no bounds for a decade now. Others a lesson they have kept very close to their heart and passed on. A lesson we are taught from an early age. Be careful what you say, as you may never get the opportunity to take it back.

Here are some of the phrases that were tossed around that fateful morning... some by friends, some by friends of friends... and so on.
"Take out the F*n garbage, you lazy piece of crap."
"You're such a jerk, shut up already."
"You're gonna regret that"
and then the real zingers...
"I wish you were dead"
"get out and stay out"
"I never want to see your sorry ass again"
"Don't expect me to come running next time"
"You won't have me to push around anymore"

Didn't happen in our house. We were just getting up. 6am for us. No chance for us yet to make such a tragic mistake. No opportunity yet to say those things now etched in others' memories.

So the next time you're angry and want to throw a zinger that you know will hurt the intended target, make sure they are words you won't ever feel the need to take back. Because sometimes there are no take-backs. And unless you can live with the last words you've spoken... perhaps you should think about them some more. That's what counting to 10 is all about. Give yourself time for clarity.

Most of us struggle with anger. Perhaps all of us. Except maybe the Dalai Lama, and I hear he has issues occasionally too. But he also has lots of wisdom to impart on the subject. Sometimes we feel it and have absolutely no way to identify the source. We look back and think how silly to get mad over something like that. I'm told someone is angry with me now because they feel underappreciated. Mea Culpa. Of course they didn't tell me.. it's all part of the wonderful world of he said she said they said... and so on. Maybe they could have answered our emails, and maybe they could have answered our text messages. Returned our phone messages. Maybe they could read my blog more often. Where I often express my gratitude to those in my life.

Communications is a two way process. What if they had responded? Or said hey, haven't heard from you? (Implying they never received any of those alleged messages.) We could then all blame it on technology and move on. And therein lies the problem. No communication, no argument, just assumptions and anger and no resolution. Too bad. It's the same with those parting words. Designed not to elicit a response, but to close the door on a conversation. End discussion. I'm right and you're wrong. Shove that in your pipe and smoke it.

I struggled with a recent blog. I had so much to say, but my point was perhaps lost in my words. I've reread them now over and over, looking for something I might have said differently. But I was I believe, careful. Even now I wouldn't change what I said. Even so, one reader simply internalized it and "assumed" it was all about them. Just my luck, since only 5 people actually did read it. Gotta love Google. So I'm not always going to be perfect with my words, but I try to be sure that they aren't words that will haunt me.

If my blog has offended you, well I am sorry about your feelings. But not sorry about writing my own down. You see I am not going to apologize for my blog itself. A blog is not an article, nor an Op-Ed, it is my journal. My thoughts, feelings, opinions. Not facts or journalism. I share them with you in case you can relate. That's all. My blog, however on point it is for you, is not about you, the reader. It's about me, the writer. Allllll about me. As egocentric as it gets. It is my outlet. What keeps me sane in a crazy world. And, as evidenced by this somber day's remembrance, it is indeed a crazy world.

And yet, even in my angriest state, I still choose my words carefully. For my intention is never to cause irreparable harm. Inform, maybe. Lecture, probably. Vent, absolutely.

As all writers do, we offer up our brand of wisdom from our experiences. The advice I offer today is not for anyone in particular, it's for everyone. Defined by my own experiences. If it hits home with you, I'll be glad about that. Because it means today when the lawn mower runs out of gas you won't lambast your kid for not filling it up. If you throw the steaks on the grill and the propane runs out, you won't blame your spouse. If the back door is left propped open and a giant fly invades your room, buzzing around annoyingly, you will all laughingly gather up an army of swatters to attack it rather than attacking each other. You will take from my blog the simple idea that we are all human, and while that means we make mistakes, it also means we learn from them.

So heed my advice. Choose your words carefully when you are angry. Make sure the punishment fits the crime, so to speak. So that when the anger fades, and it will, you aren't left with only sadness, grief and guilt.

Today is 9/11. How will you treat your family and friends today? As you should every day. As if it may be the last. With no last words to regret.