My Life Changing Moment

By: Scott Riddick

http://atypicalread.blogspot.com/

There is a song called “I Write Sins Not Tragedies” by Panic At The Disco. Some of you might know of the group and the older (wiser) eyes peeling over these words might be drawing a well defined blank. In any case, the song title is what I wish to focus on here, because in many ways this applies to my own style of writing (those of you who are familiar with my work and “play” on my own blog certainly understand this more than others). That is the hardest and most rewarding part of writing, trying to convey something you feel in words and have others read in the same way they tearfully flowed from your fingertips, or dried onto the paper your pen dances across line by line.

I hope that you all will understand then My Life Changing Moment, which came a few weeks back, when I made the incredibly difficult choice to sever the cord between myself and my family in order to save the sinking vessel of my immediate one. My family weighed down the progress of my marriage, forcing me to constantly choose between hurting my mother or the mother of my child. Many times I had to choose a side I did not believe to be the right side, to save face with my own reflection in the mirror each morning. Last week I angered my wife, but, at least, my mother is no longer calling me hurtful names. Next week I will go with my wife and sour my mother’s feelings further, so my marriage does not continue to crack down the middle.

I would never wish this type of decision making on my own worst enemy. Having to choose one piece of the heart over the other should never be a factor in anyone’s life. I have never understood how someone who calls themselves “family” could so easily make a member of that family a complete wreck emotionally, and still have the audacity to smile over Thanksgiving dinner. There is this air about us all that states in all of its obvious depravity that I, being me, must be the one to forgive and forget and allow that forgiveness to return in various incarnations of family dysfunction. I never had the chance to say this, and I will likely not be able to do so in life, but I am sorry. I wish it could be different.

The moment I severed the cord, things started to change. My marriage started to heal, and my heart began to sow the seeds and mend the wounds. There is an unsettled calm throughout this house that only shivers nervously when the phone rings and the caller ID states with its electronic voice, “Call from Mom.” A shared look of Uh-Oh plagues my face and that of my wife. The reason for this is, we both know there is a high risk of frustration and anger to follow. As they say, such is life. I have come to accept the outcast looking into the family dining room window, watching the family laugh and eat Christmas stuffing, playing the role of bad guy. 


It hurts, but with time, a film starts to develop over the eyes and it becomes easier to see through the bullshit. I am not the bad guy. I am just a good man caught in a bad situation with no happy ending. And like the song, I write sins not tragedies. After all, if I cannot honor my mother and my father who abandoned me, then how do I make amends for not only a sin, but a commandment? The tragedy is it’s out of my control. I am damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

Regardless, this is a change for the better, although the wording might suggest otherwise; but, again, if you have read this the way I write it you surely can understand.