When I see "Deliverance" people or carnival obese ladies driving electric shopping carts at Walmart, my initial reflex is to be disgusted or make some joke. At the same time, I feel sorry for them, living their apparently miserable lives. I should just be grateful that for some reason I didn't end up on that path.
“There but for the grace of God” used to be a common phrase and has the right sentiment even though I don’t believe in Gods grace. It’s funny how phrases with the word God in them feel OK even though one might not actually believe. I was watching Gutfeld on Fox before the election and Tyrus was predicting a decisive win for Trump. I kept saying “from your mouth to Gods ears” and I’m not religious at all.
Yes, thanks Josh, lovely piece, well written. Oh the ambiguities of emotions we feel. You with your mother, me with my children (and with my late mother, let’s be honest).
I was brought up lower working class in a wealthy place. The hatred that people like mine had for the poor is familiar in your beautiful writing. The razor sarcasm is something I’ve had to train out of myself. Thank you for the cry. Your writing is stunningly good.
Couldn’t stop reading, and then thinking about persons I saw today as I drove past Walmart— two shaggy looking guys at the stop light resting on packs and a third standing with a “homeless,” or maybe “help out?” sign, and also apparently asking drivers for a ride somewhere into the dark for all three of them. . I kept my windows up and doors locked as I wondered who they were and how they got there. Now I feel the touch of shame, and the same reverent sadness you talked about. I’m glad I started reading this post. I’ll look for more.
It's hard not to feel bad. However, you still must be careful. I work around some of our poorer parishioners, and they can be a handful... sometimes, quite angry and passive-aggressive. Gotta be careful. I don't blame them, but they too have many, many issues. They are exhausting to work with, and our volunteers get frustrated at times, too.
That's good advice. We can feel compassion for people without putting ourselves in danger from them. Albert, you did nothing wrong keeping your windows locked. Empathy and human feeling doesn't require taking risks like that.
Besides, it's just true that this element is rougher and more likely to cause you trouble.
And just like that, with Anne Murray, I'm right back standing in front of my mom's Zenith stereo after her passing, going through the few albums she had stashed in the inside front "cubby hole" designed for such things. I never knew my mom listened to Anne Murray; she hadn't when I was living at home. My mom had an amazing voice. A voice that turned heads when she sang at church. The nuns had trained her well.
I remember realizing, in that moment, looking at that album, that there were so many things about my mom and her life that I didn't know. We had been close. We had a loving, supportive relationship. I just never thought to *ask* ... so very many things. Ten years later, and I still feel a deep ache when I think about things I should have asked, knowing I'll never get the chance now. Would that we got do overs before time and circumstance took the possibility away.
Sometimes you sit in amazement that you avoided the pitfalls of your parents when so many copy their same characteristics. When I look at the very down and out I’m always thinking how did this person fall so low but I conquered my trails and tribulations.
You'd be a great fiction or even non-fiction novelist, Josh. Love this little story. And I think many of us can relate to conflicting feelings b/c of things we've experienced in childhood and how those were handled or criticized by adults around us, shaping our own opinions. But deep inside, we know something's not totally how it's explained to us. Whether because of defensiveness or envy, we tell ourselves we're better-than. But self-reflection and a bit of human empathy for other creatures nags at us until we see more clearly, about other people's plight. We can't change everyone, but we can hope for them. We can't change anyone or the past, really, but we can hope for ourselves. And do the next right thing, if and when possible. Often, just a smile or friendly words works wonders, just like you offered. You're a good man, brother.
💔😔☺️
When I see "Deliverance" people or carnival obese ladies driving electric shopping carts at Walmart, my initial reflex is to be disgusted or make some joke. At the same time, I feel sorry for them, living their apparently miserable lives. I should just be grateful that for some reason I didn't end up on that path.
“There but for the grace of God” used to be a common phrase and has the right sentiment even though I don’t believe in Gods grace. It’s funny how phrases with the word God in them feel OK even though one might not actually believe. I was watching Gutfeld on Fox before the election and Tyrus was predicting a decisive win for Trump. I kept saying “from your mouth to Gods ears” and I’m not religious at all.
I'm not religious, either, but those "God" expressions have become so ingrained in our language that we say them even without literal belief.
Beautiful. That last sentence ..
Your writing is so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes! What a gift, Josh!
You have a gift for poignancy.
Yes, thanks Josh, lovely piece, well written. Oh the ambiguities of emotions we feel. You with your mother, me with my children (and with my late mother, let’s be honest).
Very thoughtful piece, thanks.
I was brought up lower working class in a wealthy place. The hatred that people like mine had for the poor is familiar in your beautiful writing. The razor sarcasm is something I’ve had to train out of myself. Thank you for the cry. Your writing is stunningly good.
Good essay.
Couldn’t stop reading, and then thinking about persons I saw today as I drove past Walmart— two shaggy looking guys at the stop light resting on packs and a third standing with a “homeless,” or maybe “help out?” sign, and also apparently asking drivers for a ride somewhere into the dark for all three of them. . I kept my windows up and doors locked as I wondered who they were and how they got there. Now I feel the touch of shame, and the same reverent sadness you talked about. I’m glad I started reading this post. I’ll look for more.
It's hard not to feel bad. However, you still must be careful. I work around some of our poorer parishioners, and they can be a handful... sometimes, quite angry and passive-aggressive. Gotta be careful. I don't blame them, but they too have many, many issues. They are exhausting to work with, and our volunteers get frustrated at times, too.
That's good advice. We can feel compassion for people without putting ourselves in danger from them. Albert, you did nothing wrong keeping your windows locked. Empathy and human feeling doesn't require taking risks like that.
Besides, it's just true that this element is rougher and more likely to cause you trouble.
Poignant.
And just like that, with Anne Murray, I'm right back standing in front of my mom's Zenith stereo after her passing, going through the few albums she had stashed in the inside front "cubby hole" designed for such things. I never knew my mom listened to Anne Murray; she hadn't when I was living at home. My mom had an amazing voice. A voice that turned heads when she sang at church. The nuns had trained her well.
I remember realizing, in that moment, looking at that album, that there were so many things about my mom and her life that I didn't know. We had been close. We had a loving, supportive relationship. I just never thought to *ask* ... so very many things. Ten years later, and I still feel a deep ache when I think about things I should have asked, knowing I'll never get the chance now. Would that we got do overs before time and circumstance took the possibility away.
Sometimes you sit in amazement that you avoided the pitfalls of your parents when so many copy their same characteristics. When I look at the very down and out I’m always thinking how did this person fall so low but I conquered my trails and tribulations.
Thank you for sharing this with us, it's very vulnerable and beautiful.
Truly beautiful piece.
You'd be a great fiction or even non-fiction novelist, Josh. Love this little story. And I think many of us can relate to conflicting feelings b/c of things we've experienced in childhood and how those were handled or criticized by adults around us, shaping our own opinions. But deep inside, we know something's not totally how it's explained to us. Whether because of defensiveness or envy, we tell ourselves we're better-than. But self-reflection and a bit of human empathy for other creatures nags at us until we see more clearly, about other people's plight. We can't change everyone, but we can hope for them. We can't change anyone or the past, really, but we can hope for ourselves. And do the next right thing, if and when possible. Often, just a smile or friendly words works wonders, just like you offered. You're a good man, brother.