“Jim, I read your blog the other day. I think you’re making a huge mistake, talking about Mom and Dad. They might get wind of it and that would be really bad. Especially now that Mom is in a nursing home recovering from her stroke and Dad’s got so many issues with his memory. I’d really suggest you remove those posts. In fact, if you feel the need to write about your childhood, I’d encourage you to seek professional counseling with a therapist.”
Why thank you, Jeff. What a wonderful brother to think of me in this way! Never mind the fact that Mom has never used a computer and almost certainly never will, considering her current (and almost certainly permanent) disabilities. Never mind the fact that it’s become impossible for Dad to remember the link to any website, let alone a blog that I haven’t even mentioned to him. And never mind the fact that a really, really good writer will write from the heart. Whose advice was it, “write as if when your family reads it, they’ll never speak to you again?”
A generation ago, my parents had three sons – Gary, Jeff, and Jim. In that order or, to be more accurate, in that pecking order. Mom told Dad what to do. Dad told Gary what to do. Gary told Jeff what to do. And they all told Jim what to do. Jim grew up and decided to ignore the whole pecking order. Jim became very happy even when they all said, "That Jim! Such a rebellious one."
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