In a little community like the one where I live, our lives are intertwined, whether we want them to be or not. I think of it like a piece of embroidery that looks all neat and nice on the right side, but when you flip it over and look at the other side, you see all those threads tangled up with each other. It's still beautiful, but you realize there's more than first meets the eye.
Same thing in little communities...on the nice side, everybody helps their neighbors (for the most part), potlucks are a good time, men's open gym night turns into poker night and we can read the Christmas story from the book of Luke in the Bible at our school play without worry of a picket line forming. On the messy side, we sometimes end up knowing too much about each other, start to compete in pie wars, stew about little things that anyone outside of the community would laugh at, and take everything personally. (Last year, when Susie Milam's pie made more money at the silent auction, I took it personally. Don't laugh! It's a big deal, here!) :)
The odd thing about that is that you'd think people who live 20 miles apart and can't even see the big yard lights of their neighbor's house would not have such issues. If I wanted to keep up with the Jones', I'd have to get in my car, drive over 6 miles of gravel and mud, pull into their yard (it's not like you can circle the block surreptitiously), gawk at their Christmas lights, wave goodbye (vowing in my heart to out-light them) and drive back. What's more is that no one would see the 800 EXTRA twinkling lights I added to MY display, unless they did the same thing....seriously! (I do, however, get comments when my flamingos are failing at the mailbox. I don't take that personally. Flamingos make the Two Furrow a nicer place to drive, so I just replace them.)
It's trickier than that.
It's having a barbecue and not putting up a General Invitation to Everyone in the post office.
It's trying to keep a vasectomy a private matter when everyone wants to know why in the world you're going to town in the middle of the week without a horse trailer.
It's going to a beauty shop, not because you necessarily like the way they cut your hair, but because it's your Mom's best friend's cousin's daughter and you don't want to upset everyone. (Even though you may come away with red hair that is a little on the purple side...)
You see where I'm going with this?
It's like Facebook, concentrated down to 50 people.
Can you imagine?
Even if you don't "post it on your wall", there'll be knowledge of it, true or not, and even if you don't get unfriended, there'll be a little "block status" going on for awhile. And you KNOW there'll be "comments".
We don't all "like" the same things, but we're in the same group, nonetheless. And it's not a private group, that's for darn sure!
It requires maturity, a sense of humor, strong self-confidence and the ability to let things roll off and roll away. I guess that's called forgiveness. I'm glad I grew up in a tiny community with a lot of people like that and I'm glad my kids are growing up in the same such place.
(I'm also glad our school bus driver doesn't post anything about the outfits I have on when I bring the kids to the bus stop...but that's another topic, best saved for later.)
If you have something to say about what I've just written, please leave a comment on the fridge door, here...I hate it when people talk about my flamingos and Christmas lights behind my back...
3 comments:
I had to giggle at your last line, about the bus driver not saying anything about what we are wearing, because I was having a particularly "weird look" morning yesterday, and thought to myself yesterday that Rita sure does get to see us in all our glory!
You're right about forgiveness and letting things roll off... in our premarital counseling, that is one thing I remember specifically the pastor's wife saying is that to have a successful marriage one has to be a good, quick "forgiver". And it's not just true in marriage, but of my friends, of my kids, and of my neighbors. Some things are better off when a person has a "short" memory!
Never have really cared not will I care what anyone thinks. Just never had time for it. Nor do I care what someone else does (might tsk or laugh) but don't really care. The closest neighbor (dreaded mother-in-law).
crap--nor
took 3 tries to prove I wasn't a robot
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