"Whatever you think you can do, or believe you can do, begin it, because action has magic, grace, and power in it." Goethe

Half the Story

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We never know people nearly as well
as we might think we do.

Every single one of us has stories hidden deep…some that will never be told. Some that only we know.
Those stories are the essence of who we are. They’ve shaped us.

We like to say we understand this or that about someone, about someone’s circumstance. I’m not sure why that is.
Maybe it’s just an inherent need to be right, to fit in.

I’ve found that the ones who do come the closest to understanding have been dealt some pretty serious blows themselves.

I’m amazed that even in the midst of their own pain and suffering, people reach out to help us in ours.

We have been touched and helped by people who are dealing with loss, with illness, with family issues of their own.

On the other hand, some folks show a serious lack of understanding.
They show up unannounced, get upset if we can’t ( or choose not to) take a call, ask a bunch of questions that they don’t really need the answers to…

Why is this? Other than complete and utter disregard for common courtesy, I think it truly is that these folks have forgotten they only know part of what’s going on.
If they knew everything, they’d act much differently. Surely.
The thing is, we all forget. We think we know.
We base our actions on our own life experiences. Sometimes that’s not the best way.

My sister in law came by today. She brought homemade bread, a cake hot from the oven. She wasn’t worried about coming in. She doesn’t know everything that’s going on with her brother on a daily basis, but she accepts that. She accepts that he gets to call the shots about who visits when.

It was a relief to hug her and know food was waiting. I didn’t have to explain all of the medications and ins and outs of what we do here. All I had to do was accept her gift and keep going.

There’s still so much to say. Things I wish people understood. Like this:
We knew about this cancer long before they did. We lived with knowing. With waiting on results.
I think of the many test results I’ve waited out in the course of my own life, most that people knew nothing about.
Life goes on. Or it stops short.

A friend’s husband died last night in a wreck on Interstate 30. Another friend’s dad just lost his battle with cancer. Another friend remembers this time two years ago when her son was found dead in a wooded area far from here…from a self inflicted gunshot.
So. There’s suffering. A lot of it.

But sometimes we want people to suck all that up and just “be ok.”
It’s just not that simple.
There’s always more going on than meets the eye.
We know half the story…if we are lucky.

If we would try harder to remember that, the world would be a much better place.


Author: agnestirrito

I write. Make art. And in between, I do the best I can. ✌🏼️

One thought on “Half the Story

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