A Beggar on the Intersection Island

Fiorella was chawing down on her first  chunk of chocolate when she spotted the beggar woman on the intersection island holding up a scrawled sign that said, "ANYTHING WILL DO."

Guilt wormed through Fio. Should she hand over her second chunk? But what if the woman was allergic to chocolate or she was diabetic, or what if she rejected Fio's offering because it didn't have a wrapper around it or because she just plain didn't like chocolate? And what if Fio was just making up excuses to herself  for not sharing  her chocolate?

What should she do? How could she decide?

The light changed, the traffic started moving, and the woman turned around and reclaimed her bag and water bottle, so Fiorella finished off the second chunk of chocolate herself.

But did she subconsciously deliberate deliberately so she wouldn't have to share?

Handicapped Parking

After meeting with her critique group at Starucks inside Target, Fiorella returned to her baby car to find a red sticky thing had been slapped on the door warning her that if she ever parked in a handicapped spot again, the authorities would be called and her car hauled off. Scribbled acrossthe bottom of the thing was "Because of you, a wounded verteran did not have a place to park today!!!"

Now, Fio, a born rule-follower, accepts the fact that she was in the wrong. However, that shaming postscript made her mad. In the first place, she thinks suspects the "wounded veteran" reference was metephorical, that her sleek little Miata was what pissed somebody off. In the second place, Fio disagrees with the curreent veneration of every person who's ever donned a uniform. Soldiers are just like everyone else. Some are good, and some are bad. Some lead exemplary lives, and some are rats, no matter what kind of injury they have received.

Fio accepts guilt, but rejects the shame.

Overkill

Dear Diary:
I had a wonderful time yesterday at my church art show, in which I had placed four drawings and two of Austin son's works. There were only about ten of us there, mostly the artists, but that was okay because church members had been visiting the showing for about a month and it was a show, not a sale. All the artists were called upon to talk about our art, which, of course, me being me, I was only too glad to do, and now I feel guilty because I think I overdid it. Oh, Fiorella, will you ever learn to keep your mouth shut?

PS: If I could remember how to post a pic, I'd let you see the drawings I put on show, but my talent is art, not electronics.

Sins of the Past

Fio woke up this morning with all her demons dancing in her head. For all her stupidities, she asks your forgiveness. She meant only the best, which sometimes resulted in the worst.

Fio, the Killer

Fiorella has traced that guilt she told you about--deep inside herself, she still believes that, when she was a very young child, she killed her grandmother.

She's told you about it before, how, as her grandmother lay dying, Fiorella was told to stay in the large foyer outside the front room.  She remembers staring at the umbrella stand, at the front door, the stairs, and around at the empty room, and she knew her grandmother was in bed in the room off the other side of the front room.

Fio can only guess that, because she was alone, she probably entertained herself by singing.

Someone came through the door--a woman whom Fio, of course, cannot identify--and told her she should be quiet because her grandmother was dying. So when Grandma passed on soon afterwards, Fiorella assumed she had killed her by making noise in the foyer.

Yes, she actually believed she was a murderer, and she kept her horrible secret for forty years--until she finally faced the memory and realized there was no way a child could kill a person by making noise.

Unfortunately, though, the belief is still embedded in Fio's psyche.

But strangely enough, it has helped Fio become a better person than she might have been otherwise.  She knew she had to tread the straight and narrow because she had already committed such a terrible crime, a crime she had escaped rightful punishment for. It also gave an overload of responsibility because she apparently had great power.  Yes, Fiorella is out to save the world.

A final thought.  After looking at the dates, Fiorella told you it was her grandmother who was dying, which occurred when Fiorella was four and a half.  But through the years, she always thought it was her great-grandmother who was dying, which occurred when Fio was two and a half.

Take your choice.

A New Start

Fiorella was devastated by a friend's betrayal last summer.  She mourned for their relationship, searched her conscience for whatever she herself might have done wrong, and agonized over what Former Friend might be saying about her.

But it was all for the best.  FF was wonderfully invigorating--always laughing, always full of wicked humor, snide. and snark, but, ultimately, she was  a bad influence.  Friends frequently echo each other, and Fiorella adopted FF's style. Then Fio felt guilty, a reaction FF did not understand.

Fiorella now wishes she had paid more attention to her conscience and less to being clever, which she promises she will do in the future.

Movin' On

When Fiorella's fourth grade teacher talked to the class about small thefts that had occurred in the classroom, Fio went home that afternoon and checked her bureau drawers to be sure she wasn't an unknowing kleptomaniac.  Yes, your Fio has an overly strong sense of guilt.

But some people have no sense of guilt at all, no sense of right and wrong, no conscience.  It's marvelously freeing to be around a person like that, to be able to express whatever snarkiness comes to mind and laugh about it, to be coaxed out of post-utterance guilt.  But ultimately, there's a price to pay--a lack of conscience means the person has no sense of responsibility to anyone, including you.

Fio has been wrestling with the dregs of this situation for months.  The only way to bury it is to understand it.

But it still makes Fiorella sad.

Secret Guilt

Fio forgot to mention that her maternal great-grandmother died when Fiorella was three, about six months before Fio's maternal grandmother died. For twenty-some years afterwards, Fiorella hid it in her secret heart that she had killed her great-grandmother.

Fiorella remembers the key scene vividly.  She was standing, alone, in the hall next to the front room, with the stairs on one side and an ornate umbrella stand on the other.  An older woman--maybe her grandmother, maybe her aunt--told her not to talk too loudly because her great-grandmother was dying.

And Great-grandmother did die, which meant that Fiorella must have talked too loud. 

Continuing Guilt

It's not just guilt--it's a yen for control. Taking responsibility for the things that bad people do to us gives us the idea that somehow, we could have prevented our victimization.

In actuality, we have no control over our lives. People are mugged for no reason and stolen from at the least opportunity. Qualified, hard-working people can't get jobs or are fired out of hand. Madmen kill good people at random from university towers. We develop strange illnesses or conditions. We age when we don't want to.

So we, who are powerless, embrace the illusion of power and call it responsibility.

Lutheran Guilt

Pastor Karl got mugged a couple of months ago. As he was picking up trash around the church, a transient walked across the grounds. Pastor gave him an innocuous greeting, and, when the man didn't respond, repeated himself. So man beat him up and stole his wallet. As Pastor Karl explained to Fiorella, it was his own fault. He shouldn't have tried to communicate with the man after he didn't acknowledge his first greeting.

Fiorella disagrees. What Pastor Karl did was give the man a second chance, which is a behavior pattern she admires--that he gives people second chances, and thirds, and fourths, and forevers.

But Fiorella understands his guilt. After all, she took personal responsibility for her purse being stolen in HEB. However, on deeper reflection, her guilt is just as misplaced as Pastor Karl's. People should be safe from mugging, no matter what they say or how often they say it. And purses should be safe, even if left unattended in a grocery cart.

Fio was a victim. Pastor Karl was a victim. The thief and the mugger are the guilty ones.