House Sitting Europe 2016 Cup
House Sitting Europe 2016 Cup
You're Only As Sick As Your Secrets
I was attending a presentation by Pulitzer Prize winning author, Frank McCourt, discussing the ins and outs of writing a memoir.
Frank McCourt won the prestigious award for his heart wrenching description of his impoverished life in Limerick, Ireland titled "Angela’s Ashes".
I had received the tale from my grandfather on the day of my grandmother’s funeral.
I was wandering around their house, trying to find a memento of my grandmother that I could bring with me to continue the closeness I always felt with her.
Due to my feelings of reading, my grandfather suggested I carry one of her many books.
Next to her bedside was "Angela’s Ashes" and I knew in an instant that that was what I was meant to manage with me.
My grandmother’s parents were immigrants from Ireland and she had passed her affection of her heritage onto me.
What a fitting salute to read a novel about Ireland that was sitting successive to her bed the day of her funeral.
I devoured the story in a few days and, although the memoir was sad, shocking and inspirational all at the corresponding time, I felt an even deeper connection to my grandmother and our Irish roots.
I epigram my grandmother’s sister a few weeks hindmost and told her how touched I was to peruse the book; how it felt like my grandmother had left it specifically for me.
She smiled, patted my hand and in a sweet voice she said “Honey she HATED that book”.
She explained that the Irish do NOT say about their secrets and the author had bared his heirs secrets for the complete cosmos to read.
After the presentation about his experience writing his memoir, I waited in chain for my follow to hold my novel signed.
When I was finally in model of him I uttered “Mr.
McCourt, I loved your book.
My grandmother however hated it”.
He looked up at me and verbal “She was Irish?” I nodded and he told me that that was the way of it; the Irish did not like him sharing his secrets.
It was in that moment that I realized the undertone of my heritage; I started to see things from a clearer perspective.
Until then I never noticed how “undesirable” things were not discussed or how certain stories and rumors were neither confirmed nor denied.
Things were often swept below the carpet and left there.
However years end I attended a atonement program to covenant with my ex-husband’s alcohol addiction.
In that program I witnessed people baring their souls to perfect strangers week after week and I watched them discontinue each meeting lighter.
I listened in awe but furthermore with an uncomfortable feeling; a creed of nakedness and exposure.
Then I heard the saw that changed how I approached my situation:
“You’re only as sick as your secrets”
If I wanted to secure better, I requisite to be flexible to allocation and disburden myself from the people, places and things that I instinctively wanted to inspect under the rug of my mind.
Once I began to alert up and ration my story, I began to see why Frank McCourt was compelled to write his memoir; he was tired of being sick from his secrets.
As I write this blog I am aware of the mockery that, it took someone else’s alcohol addiction to aegis me become healthier.
I besides recognize that my grandmother smiles from eternity every instance she reads what I’ve written and she’s proud that I am brief along my openness to the subsequent generation; my descendants cede recognize what it procedure to be Irish AND chatter about their deepest, darkest thoughts without judgment.
Hopefully they in turn leave canyon along a passion of their heritage and a willingness to rest the illness of secrets.
• How receptive and honest was your issue of origin? What did you learn from how certain situations were handled?
• What secrets are you keeping correct now? Who do you keep in your life that you trust to assistance you and allow you to slice your secrets?
• How trustworthy are you for someone to allowance their secrets? How can you backing another man to unload themselves?