Secrecy

Mysteries control you. The problem is not the secret itself but what you must do to keep information out of sight. It is the axiomatic skeleton WELL PUT and all are held accountable to stay alert to those who get too near the closet door. My family, although large and loving, protects privacy. Two years ago, my grandmother died from pancreatic cancer – abrupt but prepared for. I received news through a telephone call from my uncle who lived with her in Texas, my mother, settling for a flight to Dallas to visit her mother before she passed, was unaware. I panicked and reached to my father to aid in telling the news. Grief-stricken for his in-law, he could not pitch me the burden of telling my mother, but the one of keeping it from her.

Household secrets are passed down unbeknown to others. To ease her traveling, we all actively colluded to hide the information. My care for her terror come to life left it in my best interests to tell her myself, except I had a power I did not care for. With this secret, I had choice but I was enforcing the secrecy upon myself. Possibly by admitting the reality of what is, I could deflate its authority. I left work with a heavy heart and smiled at my mom in the driveway with her luggage, shuffling with worry. Forty-five minutes to the airport, I appreciated her effort in forgetting the reality of the trip. She joked and sang and hid her own secret, her trepidation of the day she’d been dreading too long to confess. I could not by any struggle rationalize the secret’s dominance. All I sought was to end the denial, keep her from praying for my grandmother’s strength while funeral plans were already in motion. I wanted to open the closet door, to get free from the secret I knew for less than the whole morning.

My reassurance provided to my mother was a lie, casted upon the lie of saying how abuelà survived worse and she’ll live another 72 years. Dishonesties covers confidences. As she was boarding, the only way I could avoid destruction was carefully choosing its reveal. I thought of the 12 siblings she would see at the airport soon, picking her up from the news, being a better support system that my words could provide before she flew 10,000 feet above alone. I hugged her saying goodbye, knowing the exposure of the secret would make her different to be around when she returned. The pain was excruciating. I drove back solitary in my car, grieving for the first time and hearing the taunting knock of the skeleton. I found relief in telling my brother when I got home and having my father encourage that I did the right thing. A small release of the undisclosed and I felt a ton less off my shoulders. The liability was passed to those who told my mother and its reveal opened the doors and took away command. Grief awaited but could surpass time and without the power to linger, we were pardoned by its bareness.

I SEE NO MENTION OF BLEVENS’ LECTURE.

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About Natalie Melendez
Hello everyone! Welcome to my page of happily being Natalie, where you'll see all my latest outings and interests unfold. I am outgoing, adventurous and appreciate any feedback you all have to give on my page. Now, let's get started by looking at my most recent blogs down below, enjoy!

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