Dad had been stricken with pancreatic cancer for an amazingly long time. We were back in California in the summer of 1995, and I sat on Dad’s bed and asked a question I had never asked him before. Dad was a pretty private man, so asking personal questions was rare. His Dad, Grandpa Henry Sommer died when Dad was only seven years old. So I ventured into uncharted territory and asked: “do you remember your Dad?” He weakly said, “John, that was a long time ago….”. But I asked again, “still, do you remember him?” He paused and very quietly said, “no”. Three weeks later, my Dad died.

If Grandpa Henry Sommer had known he would die so early in life, leaving behind his wife and two young sons, I wonder what he would have done. Would he have taken numerous pictures of him with his family? Would he have started a diary, or written a long letter for his sons to read one day? Would it have been important for him to have been remembered so many years later by his seventy-two year old son lying in bed, himself dying?

This Easter, I was blessed with an extended time with my grandsons, the eldest two themselves now seven years old. I wonder if I depart earlier than I anticipate, will they remember me when they are seventy-two? What can I do to help them not only remember who I was, but perhaps a few lessons imparted to them? Should I take more pictures? Should I write them a long letter? Should I fill our time together with conversations and experiences?

One thing is for certain: I should do something.


 
This note is dedicated to my Dad, Ralph Sommer, and his Dad, Grandpa Henry Sommer.

Wait. Let me rephrase that. Perhaps this as a title: Silently Sucking Up Our Insecurities So We Don't Make The Person We Love Feel Like A Dishonest, Dishonorable Cheat.

Many of us, at least in the early days in our relationships or marriages are worried that someone else may come along and steal away our loved one. Someone better looking. Someone smarter or funnier. Someone with a lot of moola. These jealousies are, far more often than not, based on our own insecurities rather than the improper behavior of our partner. A long relationship usually cures this ill.

But what about in our early days? Imagine you were walking in the store with your girlfriend and someone comes up to her and says, "you are just a nasty, skanky hoe". Big fightin' words? Certainly. Someone treating your gal like that? You'd put up with that? You gotta be kidding. Now pretend it's YOU that said it (or insinuated it) because you were feeling insecure. Anytime we demand to know where they were, why they didn't answer our texts or calls, blow up their phones, or accuse them unjustly of being unfaithful, etc. is to call them a hoe (male or female). If you wouldn't take that kind of treatment from someone else, why would you ever do it yourself? You want a long, or better yet, a permanent relationship? Treat the other person with respect. The answer to the problem is actually remarkably simple.

You are feeling insecure? Shut the hell up.  Keep it to yourself.  Be quiet.
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We are supposed to make our spouse feel happy, loved and respected. Accusing them of terrible behavior is the eventual end of the relationship. Suck it up. Be quiet. Being secure in our relationships has to be earned. Earn it with proper behavior.