Different kinds of pain

Fule for Thought

 

I was talking recently to a former student of mine, named Katie. At first, I was thrilled to hear that she and her father Brian had helped me hit 40 readers! However, I had some suspicions, and sure enough, after the column is read, it is also used to line the bottom of their parrot’s cage! If there is ANYTHING to keep a person from getting cocky, this is it! The parrot’s name is Steve-O, and I’d like to think he doesn’t crap on the columns he DOESN’T like! NOBODY needs a bird who thinks he’s a critic! Katie was telling me that parrots have the mind/personality of a five year old, and it got me thinking of my own childhood.

When I was about 10, my brother Gary (…you remember him, we hid on him in the Banff theatre, he rafted on a raw sewage pond?). Anyway, my brother had a bad fall from a tree and was sent to the Children’s Hospital. My parents and I would drive in for regular visits, and this is how I met Stacey. Stacey was a girl from the Stoney Nation, and she had been horribly burned in a house fire. I had never seen scarring and twisted, burnt skin like poor Stacey. Any part of skin showing was wrapped in a tight “stocking-like” material. I later learned that this wrap was to reduce the scarring and help her recover. It must have been painful, because she cried and screamed through all of our visits. My brother had befriended her. I often stood, scared, watching as he talked and helped her (even for a few minutes), forget her pain. When Gary was discharged, I never learned what happened to Stacey. I like to think that she made it, and she’s had a good life. That’s the thought I keep, that she’s healthy, in no pain, and got to be a grown-up.

Years later, when I was in high school, I briefly came to know a girl named Sam. She was very pretty, had long blonde hair, and played on our high school volleyball team. She was also missing her left hand. In Volleyball, she would cradle the ball and toss it to serve, hit with her intact hand, and could even set by having her wrist even with the fingers of the other hand! One hot Saturday, Sam invited us to her parents’ place. They ran a motel, and my friend and I got to use the pool with her and her friend. It was fine until my “friend” swam by Sam with his right hand as normal, but he made a fist with his left hand! I was furious;  he was mocking the fact that Sam was missing her left hand! I don’t know if she noticed this, or if she put on a brave face. When I got him alone, I ripped into him and told him what a butt he was. He had NO remorse, he was SO self-centered that what HE thought was hilarious was also her “problem” to deal with … SHE needed to lighten up! My friendship with this jerk died a slow death, and I’m glad.

I got my own taste of cruelty in my Grade 12 year. I have come to learn that words can definitely hurt, as I still feel the sting of this, 34 years later. It was Mar. 17, 1978, and my Physics teacher said to the class that, “it’s Pat’s day … it’s St. Patrick’s Day.”  

Another one of my “friends” in the crowded classroom piped up with, “yeah, it’s ‘Acne Boy’s” special day!!’ ”  

I was mortified … I had battled acne for years, and this guy just pointed it out to everyone in the class! I’m sure I flushed with anger, and I couldn’t wait to get out of there! This guy wanted to be a comic, and crack a cruel joke at MY expense! I never forgot this, and years later (at our ten reunion), I made sure I reminded him of that day, and his comment. He didn’t even REMEMBER it! He humiliated me with one sentence and it wasn’t even a big deal to him! Sometimes words can scar just as much as a physical act … except these marks are hidden from the others. Even now, I remember those words … the pain is no longer there, but the memory lingers.

We all go through happy and sad events in our lives. We also struggle with our own imperfections. Our society places so much value on appearance. Did you know that some of the most popular graduation gifts for girls in the U.S. are breast implants? These girls who haven’t even matured into women are trying to look like what they think are the “perfect” females! We have lost the ability to accept our frailties and imperfections in ourselves, but ESPECIALLY in others. Some people sit back and judge, based on appearance. We all search for perfection in appearance, something we cannot achieve. I wait for the day when we don’t even notice our imperfections, that people can always feel good about themselves, no matter what. NO one should be scare to go out because they may be a bit heavy, or their skin isn’t perfect, or they’re not as muscular as they want … Life is too short to live, judging each other.

(“Fule for Thought” is a slice of life humourous column that appears in the Strathmore Times, written by long-time resident, town councillor, high school teacher, coach, husband and father of two – Pat Fule. If you would like to get in touch with Pat, you can send him an e-mail at Pat.fule@shaw.ca)