I Am A Liar

You heard me right. I am a liar.

It's the easiest way to spare me pain and pity. So damn me if you must. I'll accept the fact that I've earned it. I'm not realy proud of that, but it stems from good intentions (pause to consider that I may be paving the road to hell.)

But when I dedcided to do LIFE 4.0, I promised that I would blog honestly about my feelings, warts and all. So the fact that I admit that I've been less than honest should count for something, shouldn't it? Let me try to defend myself, and quickly, too; because when I finish, the honest truth is I'm liable to feel the need to drink (something I seldom do... and that's also the truth)

Last Thanksgiving was such a trainwreck that I barely mentioned it in LIFE 4.0, except to point out a couple of things which happened, one good, one bad. But last year, Thanksgiving came less than two months after Roxanne's death. This year, I didn't have the shock to help insulate me. Maybe that's why it caught me off guard. I found that when the topic of Thanksgiving came up, it hurt me to think about it. So rather than embarass well-meaning people (and at the same time, fling myself into depression) I acted as if the day were no big deal. No harm,no foul.

Now, I'm not about to start this whole 'Les Miserables' philisophical debate. I don't know whether or not a hungry peniless man who steals a loaf of bread is a sinner. And I don't know if someone who tells a social untruth is guilty of anything more than good manners. The fact is when people discuss Thanksgiving plans, or tell Thankgiving stories, my heart sinks.

Even after my daughter was grown and married, Thanksgiving was a special day. Although our plans were often modest, we usually did something special, a nice meal, or a day trip, or just a day of serious reflection and planning. Roxanne and I took such an irreverent, spontaneous path through life that the few serious occassions took on special significance.

So rather than dredge through the strain of memories every time the subject arose, I took the low road. "Eh, it's just another day to me," I'd say, avoiding the whole question of how empty I really felt. Please know I don't mean to hurt anyone, or to hint that I want people to walk on eggshells around me. This is simply one of my growing pains, part of learning how to steer my course without my everpresent co-pilot. So don't watch your words around me. That's just too awkward for everyone concerned.

Today's lesson: I suck. The thing is, I don't care. I am sorry I lied to people I consider to be friends. Maybe someday I'll not be so shallow and so weak. But for now, I avoid pain at all costs. So lying is something I do because I have to. I do it to survive. It's what I must do until I somehow learn to make my peace with fate.