Methinks I'm Plagarizing

Methinks:  Me thinks, as in "Me thinks I am SO good looking."


I am heading back to The Old City to visit my family in the not too distant future.  It's not going to go that well.  I don't mean to suggest that it's going to be an unmitigated disaster but rather that it's going to be unsatisfying and awkward for everyone; mildly stressful, so to speak, like a social gathering where everyone is being polite as they silently calculate just how much time is left before they can leave and go do something that they want to do with whom they want to do it.


I suspect that my ego is telling me that I'm doing this for the benefit of my family, that I'm being a good son and brother, and that it's my duty to do these things.  And I suspect that my family would protest vigorously if I suggested that it would be more comfortable for everyone if I simply stayed put here in The New City.  Methinks thou doth protest too much.  Methinks their actions speak louder than their words.  I love the section in our literature that implies that a lot of my discomfort with the world is a direct result of the fact that I judge myself by my intentions while all the rest of you difficult people judge me by my actions.  This hard fact helps me evaluate my relationships with all people, not only my family.


My lovely wife has been telling me for years that I try too hard with these people.  It's not that I don't listen to her or value her judgement but rather that this is one of those difficult lessons that I have to learn by repeating a mistake over and over until I'm good and miserable, then changing my behavior.  This is how I learn everything.  Sometimes I see how we have to learn lessons the hard way in her interaction with some of her family and friends.  I try not to give advice.  I was told early on that family can be difficult.  And there are some people who don't behave particularly well and never will, despite our efforts to be conciliatory and understanding and patient.


I have been here 14 months.  My sister has never called me.  My parents almost never call me, and often don't return my phone calls.  I have spoken to my father on the phone exactly one time, on my birthday, and the call didn't last a minute.  I will assume you can speculate on the likelihood that anyone would make the 2500 mile trip to visit me, at a not inconsiderable expense.  There is no hyperbole in what I have just written.  These are naked facts.


I don't mean for these words to sound overly harsh; my emotional reaction to things can come across a little too clinically sterile on the written page.  There are a lot of extenuating circumstances here, for sure, and I'm usually not upset at their very consistent actions.  God knows I don't make relationships all that easy.  I do know by experience that writing things down and re-reading them help me get perspective on how I'm thinking and feeling.  I can justify some pretty outrageous stuff in my head that appears laughably convoluted in writing. But this is a pretty good body of work on the part of my family.  There's some precedence here.  These actions show quite clearly where I stand.


So why am I going back?  I'm not sure I know the answer to that.  I guess I have some more lesson to learn.