Don’t Care ??????- The ‘orrible consquences
I have decided that part of my “being” was definitely influenced by the poems and songs of my childhood. Just like the times tables they have stuck- and by the way educators – I bless the times tables everyday!
I have always been a “fighter” and “cheer leader” for history, culture, lifestyle and neighborhood, city, countries and world – I wanted to right the wrongs as I perceived them and would rush in ready to do battle.
In the past months, since the diagnosis , the dying time , the death of my son and all the experiences with the people and events that entailed- that has changed. Where once I would look at the problems and situations I would, no matter how hard the windmill was to tilt, I would “try” – I cared because that is who I was. I have realized that even those that profess to love have “agendas”
Now I have become “the sigh”- -looking at a situation , sometimes giving voice to an opinion such as the “substation”, “trees” etc. but even then whereas the ME Before” would be thrilled if the outcome was good or even more galvanized if the outcome was negative. Now I do what I do I go through the motions and “accept” any outcome. “ – IT IS WHAT IT IS… SHRUG
But mostly, I just look and sigh and know that basically – I am no longer passionate – part of the light and passion has left my world .
The scum at the top of the pond, as they intruded, smothered and showed themselves to be what they are, obliterated any of the light that remained in my world.
MY TRUST HAS BEEN BROKEN IN THINGS/ PEOPLE I HELD TO BE TRUE, in religion , people who profess to be pillars of religions and caring , medical, politics, education , even extended family in some instances, has found me numb to their world.
I mainly do what I can, but without passionate caring as to the eventual outcome – I do things because friends ask or I have taken on a previous responsibility that needs to be completed but now there are just 7 things I truly care about now in this world . They are the nearest and dearest to my heart and for which I would move mountains or for whom I would give my last breath- the rest- well – there are degrees of caring but I find it hard to stir any confluence of anything to beat against the bastions.
I don’t care a terrible thing – why did I ever care it could have had something to do with the “orrible ( Horrible for you Americans) consequences“- I remembered from those childhood days.
Whenever my little blonde curly top would shake with a NO! after being told to do something , my retort would inevitably be :
“Don”t Care” when told the consequences of my non action or defiance . Don’t care would find the following be quoted to my little stubborn being :
Don’t care didn’t care,
Don’t care was wild:
Don’t care stole plum and pear
Like any beggar’s child.
Don’t care was made to care,
Don’t care was hung:
Don’t care was put in a pot
And boiled till he was done
The thought of “Don’t Care” had disastrous consequences it seems and was meant to keep “don’t care in check. And by way of another childhood rhyme that was often attributed to me as I was growing up…..
There was a little girl
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1807–1882 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.
In my opinion, I have found some people who deserve the “horrid” tag more so than I recently- perhaps I was naively blinded as to their truth of being.
AND as for Don’t Care it seems even the thought of being hung or boiled in a pot has lost its impetus to care…………… there are worse things in my world than being hung or boiled in a pot………….
I have become one of the great unwashed – there is a freedom in not caring I have suffered the most untenable pain of loss of my son and in the events and selfishness that surrounded that death and the realization that there are very few that care for others before themselves in any of the my world. Even the world of faith, that comforts so many, has been sullied.
That is not to say there aren’t some wonderful people in my life and You know who you are but the pot no longer boils as the flames of passion have been doused leaving only the stinking black burnt embers of reality.