Your Classic Cautionary Tale
There was a wedding in my husband's family this week. For most this would be a joyous occasion. For them, it is a time to unearth all past wrongs and trangressions, grudges and animosities, and cram them into the back of the Methodist Church. How do I fit into this? I don't. I stay out of the way with a casual look so that no one will think I am involved in the mess. This time around I did stand by Grampy in a show of support, because it was a very uncomfortable situation. At one point, Grampy, who I consider to be an upstanding man, was looking for a way to smear a dog turn on another family member's car. Things went downhill fast at the world's trashiest reception which followed.
Then yesterday my husband brought home "THE LETTERS" which prompted the whole thing. I read them, which I shouldn't have done. I held them up to the light. Until yesterday, I had regarded the bad blood as trivial until I read those letters. Now I regard it as trivial and sad. And I have learned things that I didn't want to learn.
I will not be keeping quiet about this in the poems. My side of the family is so much better. Most are ignorant, and we fight a lot, but everything blows over and there is alsways good food involved.