No sooner do I get my tendency to slip out with a word that I
shouldn’t say under control than the Difficult People seem to crawl right out
of the woodwork of my life.
Now, I want to make one thing clear: I’m as difficult as any
Difficult Person who comes my way. Thanks for asking, because I like my coffee
a certain way,
and no, my socks can’t be tucked under so they feel funny, and yes, I will
pollute the morning quiet with my morning rosary, which I have to do verbally
lest I lose my place.
Even knowing that I am a Difficult Person does not seem to
give me special forbearance for the Difficult People who seem to be all around
me. One day, it might be a preschooler whose only tone is whine, at a decibel
level that would make the hard of hearing understand clearly. Another day, it
might be the person in front of me at the stoplight, who seemed to have
used the time to take a nap (or update their social media account) instead of
paying attention.
There are the people who cannot. leave. me. alone. who seem to
pair up with the people I can never seem to reach when I need. While I’m on the
phone with one person, I’m getting pings and texts from another. (Or tugs and
pulls while I pound on a door, but that’s a different scenario…)
I won’t get into the DPs who cross my path in the grocery, the
gas station, or the restaurant, because I’m betting they’re universal. In fact,
they’re even humorous…most of the time.
I’ve come to realize that the truly Difficult People in my life
are the people I’m closest to. Sadly, it’s not the stranger wh0 should fear my
wrath, but my own children. The poor frazzled clerk at the checkout is more
likely to get a sympathetic word from me than the child who soared her
pink pony blanket across the living room and broke her sister’s favorite
trinket and stands at my feet sobbing.
These Difficult People are really making it tough for me to get
off easy around here. Thanks to them, I have to practice patience (instead of
just pray for it). Because of their impact, I have to make dinners (instead of
just eat them). I have them to thank for my efficiency with laundry and
writing, for my ability to talk in three conversations at once, and for the
knack I suddenly have for sleeping under a desk. I didn’t fully realize what
rude was until I started identifying it in others, and I suddenly noticed a lot
of not-perfectness in my own life with certain people started mimicking my
words and actions.
I guess, after all, I should be thankful for these Difficult
People who seem to be everywhere. I should probably even call them blessings.
Without them, I don’t think I’d stand a chance for getting to pre-holiness!
