Feelings. I had come across the following passage in Brass Ring and was going to send it to you with some comments. I think the recent letter from my parents sort of illustrates the point the book makes. I ask you to send me back a copy of the Mom and Dad letter in case I end up talking to a shrink in here.

So, back to the book; the main couple is separated. They have an 18-year-old daughter who comes home from college one weekend, drops in on Mom at her apartment, and dumps the following on her. (One M&M peanut is now open.)

Daughter: I hate you right now. Do you know that? I really know that.

Mom: Oh honey, you don’t mean that. You...

Daughter: Yes, Mother I do mean it. You’ve always been like that.

Mom: What do you mean?

Daughter: I’d say I hated someone and you’d say, "Oh honey, no, you don’t." I’d say my teacher wasn’t fair to me and you’d say "Oh honey, of course she is." I’d say I was sick, and you’d say "No, you’re not." I’d say my arm was broken and you’d say "Oh Susie, it is just a sprain."

Daughter: You know, I thought I was crazy. According to you what I felt, I wasn’t really feeling. What I was thinking was all wrong. Well, somewhere along the way I figured out it was you who were crazy!

While it was not a broken arm, I remember the time I sliced my foot open on a leftover tent stake while we were jumping over a sprinkler in my backyard. Mom was in the house, and I hobbled over to the picnic table and yelled to Mom that I cut my foot. She yelled through the window, "Well, just sit down for a bit, it will be okay."

I took another look at my foot and saw all the blood and up inside the rather deep cut and called again to my Mom, "Hey Mom, I think we need to go to the doctor!"

Now, I am not saying my Mom was denying my medical needs, but as I read this passage, bells started to go off.

Besides my Dad’s mimic of my whining "It’s not fair!" Mom was always saying my feelings were wrong. Even in the attached letter they make one statement about the abusive words, but all the other comments are about how good things must be.

I could be wrong here, but although you have made clear you do not condone my crimes, you generally acknowledge that my current situation is no picnic. Yes, I put myself here and am responsible for my current predicament, but don't I deserve some sympathy from Mom and Dad?

I know they understand my situation but it makes me hurt that they try to sugarcoat everything. I think you are more empathetic. Empathy is one of the things I am supposedly lacking. Although I am better now, perhaps one can see where I got my traits from.

I see, or should say I feel, the difference in the letters from you and Dave vs. those from my parents. Even the letters where you are angry at me, you usually acknowledge my pain.

I guess that is probably the most important human touch that I can get. Like all those touchy feely blog comments, they mean more than money. But, M&Ms like the ones I am munching now can still soothe the soul.
  ¶ 7:09 AM