Inequality. It's where I ended in my last writing on this blog. It is where I begin with this entry.
There was a family of four children who lived a life until a point came in each of their lives when they left their mother. Before the time that such a separation is generally encouraged. The reasons were extreme. The results of their departures varied. When the smoke settled, two would find a measure of regularity with marriage, children, home, and the mundane of everyday, though they would battle their demons on inward planes. Two would struggle with their demons in a more public venue and find themselves institutionalized for their efforts.
All were exposed to the same stresses. Each entered the world via the same womb. But right down the middle ran an invisible line, with survivors to the left and thrivers to the right. Biochemical processes within the brain would determine the reactions and outcomes of these four individual lives. An organic inequality which would only be enhanced by the elasticized boundaries and experiences of an unusual childhood.
One sibling of this quartet would become the bridge over which they all could safely cross. Her role became that of comforter, friend, peacemaker, and confidant. She protected the commonality of their youth, realizing the unique nature of their tenuous bond, understanding they were connected whether or not they desired such because of their extraordinary history. No one else could comprehend their situation like they could, one to the other. She rose to the occasion without expecting an end or compensation or even relief. It was more than duty: it was empathy. Love without question, even in the midst of irritation or frustration. Sometimes, even anger.
The nature of these relationships and the circumstances behind them lead certain onlookers to conjecture without the benefit of true circumspection. There are those who believe the big sister 'does too much' for her siblings. There are those who opine that the two institutionalized siblings 'are reaping what they sowed.' There are those who feel she would be better served to 'focus on her family and her self' as if, quite possibly, she had neglected those areas in the process of funneling her valuable energies to lifeless appendages.
Who has the right to hand down such judgement calls? When does caring for others become too much? How is it determined that love and concern need to be bagged and tagged for the duration? What will this generation of children learn of their own sibling interactions through such uninformed proclamations?
As a society, we hero worship through the medium of television and movies and the written word. Condensed versions of lives lived out in selfless giving are presented in palatable sound bytes which make it all seem doable to the viewer/reader. The actual impact regarding the outpouring of time and energy cannot be truly felt. Thus, when it is witnessed in real time, many interpret it as a drain, a waste, an unnecessary sacrifice.
My life is rich in friends and family. Where is the drain in ensuring a fellow human being does not have to brave the harshness of life alone? As my children are fond of pointing out, there is a hefty amount of unfairness out there. Where is the waste of my energy in extending a small measure of fairness to counteract the ill effects? My Christian directives compel me to believe that even for the good of one, it is all of worth. In accordance with that, any sacrifice I make is necessary and
folllows on the heels of the greatest sacrifice ever made.
If the unaware could somehow catch on to the silent many who carry an extra load for a loved one, often even for strangers in great need, and hear the tangled stories. If the unaware could accept the heart willing to assist as opposed to enable. Then, perhaps they might feel they should extend themselves in the everyday extraordinary ways that mark the days of those they have deemed foolish.
The wonders we might accomplish.
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