It was 7:00 PM. I finally had my “teacher homework” gathered in my bag, laptop safely stowed, and other paraphernalia stuffed in the pockets of my old black, aging briefcase. I turned off my office lights, slung the bag over my shoulder and carefully descended the stairs out into the crisp evening walking slowly to my car. A young girl stepped in front of my intended path talking intently on her phone. “ Yes,” she said, “ I had a class this morning, and a 3½-hour nap.” I nearly sunk to my knees and cried. I could barely get to my car following a day of classes, helping students solve design problems, dealing with various computer issues, and a myriad of other daily activities. My lawn has not been mowed in two weeks. Frost has killed all my potted flowers, and they hang in a comatose tangle of limpness. No time to clean up fall’s destructive attack. So, how is it that a student attending a university can have a 3½-hour nap? Obviously, “life does suck,” at least for me. I cannot even remember when the last time was that I had a nap at all! (I am not counting church meetings, or presentations in class in that tabulation.)
But, allow me to progress to the point of this blog. The title was conceptualized as a result of my personality. I have been accused of being negative throughout my life. I personally refer to it as being realistic. In addition, I interlaced my perceived negativity with good doses of sarcasm. Voilà…the birthing of a skeptical, negative, sarcastic person! And, I was such a sweet little boy. Anyway, when the title erupted from my sarcastic mouth, my daughter, Megan, laughed and indicated that she and my other daughter, Heather, had discussed, behind my back, mind you, my lack of sympathy. They agreed that the title was perfect for one such as I. Even my son, Logan, when asked on the phone the other night, if I was a “non-sympathetic,” he, too, cast his lot into the affirmative barrel of believers. It seems that when life has smacked them along side of the head, and they wanted to download on me, I just uttered those infamous words, “life sucks and then you die”. Actually, it is not that there is a lack of sympathy on my part; it is just that at my mature age, I have dealt with some of life’s little surprises, challenges, trials (like not having a nap)…whatever you want to call them. They are just part of this life, and its numerous disappoints. Like the squirrel that runs back and forth across the road, there may come the time when a car hits the varmint dead center. (Excuse the pun.) Welcome to life, or death.
The dictionary defines sympathy as being “feelings of pity and sorrow for someone’s misfortune,” or “ a formal expression of such feelings”. When I read this definition, I was surprised that my family perceived me as the grumpy old man that could quite possibly drive over the above said squirrel and feel no sympathy for the loss of it’s life. Funny, this is the same person that, after killing his first deer, looked into its eyes and vowed never to take the life of an animal without need or cause again. This is the same person that cries taking out the garbage – usually because tender feelings have been touched by the needs of someone else, or the sorrows of my children, or the brutality of life itself. I know…you think I need medication. Got that covered. Apparently, my persona is quite different than who I thought I was all of this time. That just might be one of life’s little surprises I mentioned above. Yes, now and then “life sucks”
Me at about two years old. This kid is filled with sympathy.
The issue with sympathy is this. If we sit around whining about what has happened to us, how life is unfair, expecting people to pour out sympathy and solve our discomforts, whether a result of being a victim, or of our own poor decision making, we never climb out of our pity-pile. Therefore, we are a victim paralyzed by our need for sympathy and coddling. We do not accomplish, achieve, love, or attain our greatest potential. There is a sense of entitlement to having someone lollygag over us. Waste of time. Don’t get me wrong. Everyone loves to have someone appreciate and care about them. Even Mr. Grumpy Old Man appreciates a comforting smile or attention. Call it sympathy. Call it what you may. Just allow me a 3 ½ hour nap once in awhile!
