love to paint

This is a longer note than I can post on Facebook, but it is over the years I have noticed something that I have never quite been able to reconcile with. When people die and get married, often a very different picture is painted of reality.  And it troubles me.  I have known parents who were abusive throughout their lives to their children when they were both children and adults, who have been painted as loving husbands/wives and fathers/mothers who cared deeply for their families when they die.  Yet, the family members told me these people were unkind and selfish, which is to put it mildly.  Their children were deeply wounded by what they had endured from their parents throughout their lives.  I noticed this morning on the news that there was outrage that the young man who murdered several people in Dayton, Ohio, was painted as a kind and loving young man--yet no mention was made of how he died.  In a way, I understand their consternation and frust...

A few months ago, I read a blog post that a friend on Facebook had linked to.  The mom was lamenting her life and explaining that no one understands how hard her life is, but also that it is truly harder than anyone else's. After I read the post, I felt differently than the author did.   Throughout the post, she talked of friends she had--friends who listened, friends who tried to help.  She even getting to go on a girls' night out.  From where I stand, she has many huge blessings. Her friends and family may have loved her and her family imperfectly... but they were clearly trying.  If she has gone on a girls' night out, she has had some time with friends--by herself.  Each of us face struggles every day.  Some are silent and invisible.  Some are more visible.  This mom in the post has a special needs child.  Her struggles are very real. So are mine--even though they are invisible and silent.  Mine aren't less or more...