It’s hard to explain how I see the phrases that come into my mind, they almost appear as sentences. I say “almost” because they are more like ordered verbs and nouns like those social media post showing how the brain can read a sentence that is missing prepositions, conjunctions, or some other part of speech. More times than I can remember I can be standing or sitting next to someone and the words appear in my mind, and just like reading a line from a book, I often don’t know what they say until I have said it. Oftentimes I am shocked at their content, wisdom, and pure simplicity. They are not from me.
Summer finds me eating dinner at the bar in a very crowded restaurant in Kenosha Wisconsin, a tourist town, and also the corporate home of my employer. I am near the section of the bar where the wait staff come to pick up the drinks they serve. It also serves as the pickup point for to-go orders. Tonight I feel like I am eating dinner in the tourist section on a transatlantic flight as I am elbow to elbow on the left but elbow to wait staff on the right.
The argument grew in volume until the mother and teenage daughter reach the bar to get their to-go order. The conversation was stereotypical, mom chastising daughter and daughter rebelliously replying to the mom. I heard the last of the daughter’s comments, “It’s no big deal!” as I turn to see a bright red sunburned girl. It struck me as rather reminiscent as I don’t think I had seen a sunburn that bad since the late 70’s.
The words appear in my mind and I say “that’s quite a sunburn” as I look at the girl. She looks back, murmuring something about it not being important. Commenting the burn looks was pretty bad, she replies “it’s no big deal”. New words appear in my mind and I open my mouth intending to say “Yes, but remember, you are talking to a man whose both wife and daughter have had to deal with skin cancer.”
I start to speak the line but as I finish the words “…whose both wife and daughter” I am struck by such incredibly overwhelming sadness, a sadness so intense I can’t continue speaking and tears form and one trickles down my cheek. I struggle to talk but cannot. Suddenly the words change and I can get each of the five individual words out of my mouth “It’s. Not. Worth. Dying. Over”. Embarrassment takes over and I turn back to my meal as the mother pulls her daughter away. The daughter, confused and horrified is asking “What happened… I don’t understand…. what just happened?” I have no doubt the mother explained to the daughter that skin cancer can kill and death always carries pain for others, for that would be my assumption should I have witnessed the exchange of words.
My wife and daughter are fine. My daughter has scars on her chest where skin cancer was removed and both she and my wife have to have annual and intermediate checkups as skin cancer runs in my wife’s family. So why the sadness? I speculate that for a teenager, a simple comment about my wife and daughter dealing with skin cancer would not have the impact the Boss wanted or needed. Maybe the Boss has plans for her and dying of skin cancer is just not going to be one of them. But being that we have free will, maybe a rebellious teenager needed to be shocked. As strange as it may sound, I do not know but I am firmly okay with it.
The cynical part of us can look at what happened as manipulative, and we often view manipulation as evil or at a minimum, deceitful and bad. However, I’ll offer up to the reader that manipulation is only bad if it’s self-serving. If it helps someone, maybe it’s just a tool or mechanism to get a point across. Is it deceitful? Probably, but so is the misdirection about surprise parties, Christmas gifts, and the like.
The Boss has plans for that girl and whatever those plans are, if the Boss needs to use me as the instrument to get her to see beyond being rebellious to her mom, then I’m good with it. Granted, it was damned uncomfortable, but I’m good with it.
Copyright © 2024 G. Steven Nolte – Rights for non-commercial reproduction granted: May be copied in its entirety, but neither retyped nor edited.