It's All About the Effort

Since the news of Beth's car accident and death, I've been a little off. I haven't even see my niece since the '90s, but it's all the memories of her youth that make me purely steamed about how unfair her life was to her.

In an effort to make a little sense of something so tragic, I called my Dad. We haven't talked for 15 years and we really couldn't talk when I phoned him. He has late-stage Parkinson's Disease and can't hear. So I conveyed the news to his wife, Nancy, who was earnestly upset. Dad held the phone long enough to say hello and that he understood that Bethie was dead.

All I can do is disperse my anger onto my sister who failed miserably as a mother. I've held enough grudges and discontent to members of my family, but it's impossible for me to find any remorse for my anger toward her and her erratic behavior. It's that behavior that drove Beth to a life that involved dropping out of school, drugs and jail time prior to her death.

And where was I during that period in her little life when she could have desparately been asking for help but had no one to turn to and no place to escape?

Not a shining example of an uncle. If I've learned anything from this is that I need to reach out no matter what's happening in my life, so that in the end, I can say I made an effort. It's that effort that comes from within that hopefully makes a difference in the world.

-end-