Could the Truth be the Downfall of Happiness?
Written by: Stacey L. Bolin
Music inspiration for this story:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Xyp63MaSBs
Music inspiration for this story:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Xyp63MaSBs
At a very
juvenile age, my mother taught me a very important lesson of life, and that the
only person I had to blame at the time for the problems that arose, were three
people - me, myself, and I. I believe I
was the age of 8 and my brother was 4. We had a friend who lived just one house
up from us and across the street. He was one of the local neighborhood boys,
maybe only 7 in age, that I don't know, but I will always remember his name was
Jimmy. He would come down to our house and we would have a blast playing day
long games of Cowboys and Indians that at the end of every day we would fantasize riding off on our
imaginary horses named Starlight and Silver into a New Hampshire sunset across
our ten acres of land.
What does
this have to do with the title of this blog "Could the truth be the
downfall of happiness?" Well, it
was at this specific time in my life, that I made a premeditated choice to do
something that I knew would not be met with rainbow colored ponies and glitter - but the outcome would impact me for eternity.
My neighbor
and I were having fun galloping around the house, to capture my brother who
would always play the Indian with no pony of his own. My brother sprang out
from behind a large cinderblock barbeque my dad, had for years, been trying to
keep from crumbling. When my brother did this, he did not comprehend how close
the neighborhood boy was to his location, causing them to collide that resulted
in my little brother falling against the edge of the Barbeque. Now we all know at
that young of an age, any type of fall, whether a good fall or an accident
would result in an ample amount of tears and mom would come running to check on
baby brother. (Ok here’s an honest statement that I’ve kept to myself for years
- yes I will say that at my age then, I always felt she worried about him more
than me and yes I would get jealous.) My
brother was fine, it was just a simple accident and resulted in a mere bump to
the forehead. Jimmy had also fallen into the barbeque, without any bump or
scratches appearing.
Now back in
1970’s parents on our road were notorious for contacting the other parents of
the community to notify them if their children were in trouble, had gotten into
trouble - or worse - had gotten hurt or were missing. Being 8, I never gave
that notion any consideration when I had gone to Jimmy's house for lunch the
next day. Still stewing over the situation and under the delusion that mom
loved my brother more than me fueled my mouth. When I arrived at Jimmy's home,
I was met with a kind hello from his mother who was in the kitchen making a
glorious lunch of PB & J, apple juice and chips. What 8 year old would pass up lunch
made with these three kid style food groups? NOT ME! As we sat at the
table, Jimmy's mom kindly asked how my brother was doing. It was this inquiry that
I walked right through the gates of Hell knowing perfectly well what I was
about to do. I responded with the lie of lies - and not a slap on the hand don't
do it again type of lie - this one was the mother of mothers and life would
change for me the instant his mother got off the phone after confirming what I
had said was true or not and that maybe my mother had not given all the
information about the accident in the backyard.
When Jimmy's
mom hung up the phone, she remarked that I had to go home at that very moment.
"Why would I have to go home? I just got here and
haven't even finished my sandwich?" I thought to myself, "But
I knew the truth I was about to face the music and mom's anguish about the one
thing she hated the most - LIARS!"
My house
wasn't even an 8th of a mile from where I was and most days I could
be home in 45 seconds if I put myself into my galloping horse mode. In my whole
life as a kid on White Oaks Road, this was the only day that I did my best to
make this brief walk, drag out - only to be met in the front yard by my mother
and her rage screaming for all to hear - "GO TO YOUR ROOM AND STAY THERE!
YOU’RE GROUNDED!" My mother always
stood by what she said and meant every word of it.
Ok, I'm
hearing you now - "What did I say
that pissed my mom off into a medusa mode?" Mind you, before I divulge
what I said, I was 8, but I knew perfectly well what I was saying and why. So
when somebody says to you, "I don't know why I lied," when you ask
them a question about something they have said and/or have done especially when you
have the facts - THAT IS NO EXCUSE - They
know perfectly well why they said or did what they did and lied!
(Ok, quick vent, breathing….better now.)
I had told Jimmy's
mother that he had knocked out my brothers two front teeth when he ran into
him. I could feel the lightning bolts of death crackling above my head as soon
as the word absconded from my mouth. I knew it was only a matter of time before
I would obtain the ass warming of a life time, but never in my wildest
imagination did I ever think that my mother had it in her to punish me for the
length of time she did. And the
statement – “I can take your birthday
away from you - just watch me!” Yes my friends she had that power do such a
thing and even as I continued to walk this great earth, I had never felt so
alone and that to some, running away would have been the solution to escape
being lonely.
It was the
month of August, my birthday month. There had been plans made for a big
birthday party with all my friends, daily trips to the Weirs Beach to go
swimming and play on the swings and the biggest event - the circus was coming
to town for the very first time. I'll
give you one guess who didn't get to take part in any of these big plans and
that my birthday party had been reduced to just family members.
Mom had held
me accountable for my recurrent little white lies that garnished my stories before
the big "Tooth" lie. This time my punishment consisted of more than the typical
norm that was usually no TV, no bike riding for a day and once we tried the
great taste of Irish Spring soap. However with my friends and their parents
labeling me with the reputation of being a chronic liar, Mom took matters into
her own hands, which started with a classic case of major red ass – And I
certainly was not used to the newest form of punishment implemented that summer. I learned at a young age that I'd never survive in prison after being confined to my room for a month, only to come
out to eat, use the bathroom, and answer the phone. In addition to my child style Folsom Prison blues, no friends could call or come over and As for TV - when school started in September,
I was clueless to the new television scheduled line up of my favorite shows
like the Brady Bunch, The Flintstone’s, Looney Toon's, and Gilligan’s Island.
(The oddity about my punishment being referenced as my child style Folsom Prison Blues is because while I was serving my time, and my mother was in the kitchen listening to her AM radio - It was the first time I had ever heard Johnny Cash sing Folsom Prison Blues. Ironic hua? I'm not kidding when I say I have a life soundtrack and can be teleported back to that very time when I hear the songs that musically appeared during significant times in my life.)
To an adult
getting this type of punishment, the attitude would be like - so what if you miss a few TV shows and don’t get to go out with friends
when you’d like, but being an 8 year old and it’s summer vacation – it was a
death sentence. I wrote many letters of my intent to run away, and how much I
hated my mother and that she didn’t love me. However, after each closing of my runaway
letters, I would sign it – Love Stacey, and I would realize what I had to lose.
I didn’t
hate my mother, I hated that I wasn’t getting my way or getting away
with a behavior that if I continued – would hurt me throughout my life. It was
then – my lesson was learn and I promised myself that I never wanted to feel so
isolated again that people lose trust in a person who lies or tell tall tales. I
lost several friends and several opportunities to have fun that summer. That is
why I speak the honest truth or keep my mouth shut, I do not lie, as I have nothing to gain except a life of stress, and what I like about traveling the road of honesty – the freedom of
not having to remember which lie I’ve told and then having to cover up one
after another. There is numerous ways to be honest without being harsh
and hurtful.
Now my
mother had always said, one day you will have yours coming, and you’ll know
just precisely when someone is lying to you like you have done to me and
Jimmy’s mom. She was right and I see it as her legacy, a permanent lifelong
lesson, and curse all at the same time. Note
to self – Lesson learned – The Truth Will Set You FREE!
Flashing
forward to this day: I have another problem to solve: Getting my family to understand there is a
liar among us – and it isn’t me. My younger son fell victim to this over the
summer, but soon the truth about statements I had been making about a person’s
behavior were actually ones of truth and the person they were about – finally
confessed. I felt vindicated, but at the same time I could see the
disappointment in my sons face, as he honestly believed I was the liar, but the
lies were the defense of another to protect themselves from wrong doings being
exposed. I’d like to think that my younger son sees the real person I am in a
whole different light. But as for my oldest – he will only see the truth when
he is ready and not a moment sooner. Until then I can only smile and do my best
to stay happy, and believe one day these truths I tell will be discovered to be
honest and will finally set his anger free.
