I changed my position as my hand started going numb again. I had been sitting by the window all morning because, well it's not like I had anything better to do. Because it was Valentines Day my mom and dad were spending time together. So you know what that means? It means that I am completely ignored.
I chuckled a little bit as I realized something, when's the last time they were not fighting for an entire day? My mind wandered through the past few days, going on a quest to find the answer to my question. I came up with nothing, so I went a little bit further back to the last month. Still nothing. I went even further to a year. My shoulders gave a sudden jerk as my mouth slid into a smirk. Sometimes things can be truly ironic.
The last time that my parents were not fighting for an entire day, at least that I can remember, was on Valentines Day last year. What is so special about Valentines Day?
As I pondered this, I turned my attention back to my front yard. I don't know why I was so fascinated by the trees today, but regardless I was. I looked at the four pine trees that bordered our neighbor's yard. They stood so tall that I imagined the tips were breaking through the sky, as if it were glass. I also imagined myself growing as tall as they are and my head obliterating the roof of our trailer home. Hearing the birds chirping made me think of them landing on my arms and my nose. Chuckling, I imagined how their little feet and feathers would tickle my skin, as their beaks peck at my humongous arm hair.
All of this imagining could be the reason why I am staring at them, but I don't think so. I have imagined this many times but I have never been this entranced by them.
Before I could come up with a reason why I was suddenly so fascinated by the trees, I thought I saw something white flit down to the ground in the distance.
Within the blink of an eye I was sitting up straight with my nose pressed into the window. It can't be snowing can it? I thought, as I attempted to move my dirty blonde hair out of my eyes. While I was still scrutinizing the yard for any signs that my eyes did not deceive me, —as they often did— I flicked my hand up to my face to try and remove the piece of hair that has decided to wage war on me.
The movement was so quick that I thought I had gotten it, but a few more seconds proved that I, in fact, had not. Annoyed, I jerked my hand up to vanquish my enemy.
"Ouch!" I yelped as I poked my eye. With one hand I rubbed my wounded eye, with the other I brought the guilty finger up to my face so I could scold it. "You stupid little thing, that's not was I told you to do." I glared at it for a few more seconds to emphasize my point.
When I felt certain that it got the message I turned toward the window again but instead of looking outside, this time I examined my reflection. Dark blue eyes looked back at me before I directed them to find the piece of hair.
After the war with my own hair was resolved, I looked back outside to see if it was actually snowing. I slumped back down and pouted as I did not see any further evidence of snow. However, a few seconds later, I realized that there was a layer of snow that was hugging the trees.
This time I jumped up and sprinted to the study, where my mother and father were.
When I burst into the room they looked up at me, "what's wrong?" My mother asked, her brown hair tucked behind her ears and her hazel green eyes gleaming with concern.
"Nothing," I gasped out, "but It's snowing!" Feeling excited that I informed them, I ran back to the window. I waited for them to follow me, but they didn't show up. I looked up at the ceiling and groaned. I stomped back to the room and looked at both of them with my chin jutted out. "Come on!" I whined before I ran back to the window.
This time they actually followed. Their slow walking starkly contrasted with my bouncing around on my tippy toes, barley unable to keep my excitement controlled even that much. Why aren't they excited? I wondered.
My father looked down at me. "Why are you so excited? You're sick, you can't go outside in this weather."
My heels hit the ground at the same time, and with the same booming impact, as my mood did. Oh right. Forgot about that, I thought as I struggled to breath due to my stuffed nose. I had been so excited that I did not realize that it did not matter if it was snowing or not, I was not going to be able to enjoy it either way.
"But," my father said as he raised on his tippy toes and rocked back on his heels, "I guess today we can make an exception."
I smiled brightly and sprinted to my room to get dressed.
It only took me an hour to get dressed with all of my layers of shirts and jackets, hand mitts, and beanie. After we went outside, all three of us started laughing and throwing snowballs at each other, my mother and father actually acting like they loved each other for once. I had so much fun that day, even if it was cut short due to me being sick at the time.
As you were reading this story, you might have thought that a lot of my life was like this, with very few differences, but you could not be any more wrong. In fact, a couple of years later my father went to jail for a very serious offence. No, my father was not the best father, far from it actually, but this memory helped me see that even if someone does something vastly wrong, that does not mean that they are completely bad. This helped me realize that no one is truly a bad person or a good person. There are people who do bad things and there are people who do good things. Not one event defines someone. If I had told you that story without mentioning the problems that my father and mother had in their marriage, what would you have thought of him? You would have most likely thought that he loves to have fun and cut up. You would also thought that he was kind, and overall a good father, would you not?
This works the same way as if I had neglected to tell you the memory of the snow day and instead just told you all of the stories of him yelling at me, hitting me, and other things that resulted in him going to jail. If I had only told you that, the only thing you would think of him is that he is abusive, hot tempered, and overall a horrible person and father.
However, because I told you both pieces of information, you know that he was complicated. You know that on a whole he was bad, yes, but he also had some good moments.
This shaped how I perceived the world as I grew up. When someone mistreats me, I know from experience that I can not let that define them. I always know that they are more complicated than they seem. At the same time, I don't let them walk all over me. Just because there could be more to someone does not mean that you need to let them think that they can get away with pushing you around. It is also because I know they are complicated that I give people second chances. You only see what the other person presents to you. You can guess at the rest of their personality, but you don't know for sure.
So, speaking from someone who knows how hard life can be and how awful people can be, you can't let that define you, or let them control how you think. Always look for the why, not the what, but the why someone did what they did. There is always a why behind everything everyone does. They might not consciously know it, but I bet if you went digging into their past, you'll figure it out. Or if you found out more about their situation you'd figure it out too. Never judge a book only by it's cover. You need to get to know it by reading a few pages and the back before you can truly judge it.
