The Death of Communication

Recently I received an email (and subsequent replies) from certain members of the Bunny's side of the family - the side that I have learned, through past negative experiences, to steer clear of. Curiosity getting the better of me, I scanned through that first message. What caught my attention was the use of the phrase, "to my family." It was this sentence that stopped me cold.

I thought for a moment about who I consider to be part of my family. To me, "family" are people - through blood or association - who value my contribution to their lives. People who listen to me, ask my advice, call me out of the blue to just see what I am up to. People who emotionally support me. People who tell me when I am being stupid; but in a kind, unhurtful way. People who show me - by their actions and behavior - that they love me, no matter what.

In thinking back to those past experiences with the Bunny's relatives, not one speck of this criteria is met. But interestingly enough, this realization doesn't inspire any powerful emotional response from me. My thought process follows this vein: Me, them. Different values. Different lives. The Problem: their expression usually causes me pain. The Solution: close off access.

And the answer was suddenly clear. Their power is only as significant as the focus I give it. Kind of like that scene in Nightmare on Elm Street, where Nancy realizes that if she just turns her back on Freddy Kreuger, he won't be able to hurt her. She turns her back, and he vanishes into a puff of smoke.

I read two sentences of the second email, then I deleted it. By the time I received the third email, it was easy to delete without reading because all of my desire to communicate, to connect with these people, has died. In fact, the feelings I have for 'everything Bunny' - the human being he was, our life together - is more alive to me than anything with these people will EVER be.

One other thing that sticks with me from that first email. The on and on of how the Bunny and this person had such a "solid relationship." Yea, right. Talk is cheap. You can fantasize all you want about the relationship you think you had, now that the Bunny is dead and you have no opportunity to walk that talk. Just in the same way the people you care about - if they exist - might fantasize about you, when your day comes. But that doesn't change history. That doesn't change all the hurtful things you are capable of doing to people you supposedly care about while they are alive.

So, here is where we officially part ways. I wish you well in the life of your choosing. I choose something different.

Peace.