DailyAfirmation (dailyafirmation) wrote,

A Prudy zinger, the Met in the movie theater, an unsocial STC social, Helios, and a Trailer Park...

About this "Dear Prudy" today, I thought before I read Prudy's response: "This is the stuff of classic literature."

I do hope she had the good sense to change the actual circumstance of what happened to make her point. I mean how many people's fathers die by being hit on the head with a corn cob?

Dear Prudence,

I have fallen in love with a woman I knew from childhood and ran into again after not seeing her for 20 years. As kids we hardly noticed each other, but when we met again after all these years we felt an immediate attraction. The problem is that when I was 12 years old I did something terrible that caused an accident that killed her father. No one ever found out it was me and I've never told anyone after all these years. I feel horrible about what happened, but it was a long time ago and I've gotten on with my life. But now what? Should I tell this woman that I caused her father's death many years ago? I'm afraid it would ruin our relationship and we love each other a great deal. The accident occurred when I was in a cornfield at night—we were throwing corn at cars when they drove by. We couldn't see the cars because we were hidden in the field. An ear of corn I threw went through the open car window and struck her father in the head, causing him to lose control of the car and crash into a tree. I ran from the scene and was never implicated.

Guilty and Confused

Dear Guilty,

History and literature are full of great loves doomed because of circumstance and fate. I'm afraid that being responsible for the death of your girlfriend's father—and having kept this terrible fact a secret—adds you to the list. You are contemplating keeping quiet in order to keep the girl. That is cruel and untenable. Do you hold her hand and nod sympathetically every time she says, "After my father died …"? You cannot build a healthy relationship on such deceit. You mentioned there was at least one other person with you in the field. Imagine how your girlfriend would feel if whoever was with you that night finds out about your romance and sends her a letter about what you did. There's no undoing the heartbreak caused by your childhood prank, but you have the power to at least answer the question for this woman (and her family) about what happened to her father that night. Telling her is the right and moral thing, and you have to accept that doing so in all likelihood will cause her to end your relationship. Before you tell, you also need to be prepared for the legal consequences of confessing. I talked to several law professors and they all said you should consult an attorney to find out your possible criminal and civil liability (and just to add to your dilemma, each said if you came to them as a client, they would advise you to keep your mouth shut). If you do decide that you can keep the secret and still live with yourself, then you must break off the romance. Her father died because of what you did accidentally; don't destroy your own decency because of what you're doing deliberately.


The other three letters this week are from (1) a couple invited to a wedding at which the bride and groom have suggested, in the place of wedding gift, a donation to a charity that offends them; (2) a lady who is bald by choice, not from chemotherapy; and a man who thinks he's "picking up what she's laying down," but isn't. Read them here if you're interested. I love Prudy.

This is both a cool idea, and exciting to me (click to read article): Met to Broadcast Live Operas Into Movie Theaters.

I blew off the Prompt Writing Workshop tonight, as I was double-booked, and chose to attend the 7:30 at Mitch's Tavern STC Social instead.

I'm glad I did, as Kim and Milton were the only two there, and Milton had to leave shortly after I arrived, which was at about 7:50, as I spent 10 minutes looking for my cell phone after returning home to get it after having left the house, and then stopped by Tompkins to slide an envelope for Dr. Swarts under his office door. Whew! Take a breath, will you?

Kim and I left at 9:00, after giving anyone who might have been coming after a 7:30 - 8:45 class a chance to arrive.

I went to Helios, where I caught up my blog until 11:00, at which time I met Joe at Flex for Trailer Park Prize Night.

Mary K. Mart, hostess extraordinarie of Trailer Park Prize Night


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