God'll Getcha

An old friend of mine, a father of three with many outstanding qualities far too numerous to list here, had the unfortunate character flaw, likely as a result of faulty upbringing, of bigotry. He was unabashedly vocal in his dislike of gays and his disrespect of African-Americans, sometimes shockingly so. So it was ironic to the max when his only son came out at age 16 and both of his lily-white daughters married black men, giving him several mixed-race grandchildren. One was tempted to say, or at least think, "Ha, God fixed his wagon!"

Similarly, years ago a dear friend of mine developed cancer and needed chemotherapy three times a week. Her working husband could only handle the weekend visit, and so friends volunteered for the two weekdays. I drove her every Wednesday, welcoming the chance to lighten her treatment time with jokes and crossword puzzles. When I mentioned this in passing to another good friend of mine, she was literally aghast at the thought of doing such a thing. I asked, "What would you do if I got cancer and needed your help?" In a heartbeat she replied, "If you got cancer I would never call you again." Sadly, since making that statement her sister, husband and now she herself have gotten cancer and required chemotherapy.

So I'm wondering what terrible thing I did or said or thought, either as a child or in another life, that has delivered me such dysfunctional family relationships, each one fraught with anger, sadness and depression and devoid of all joy. Musta been something really bad.