I haven't forgotten

Recently, some other strange thing happened to me in communication with people.

You know that I often say that people in the region where I have to live now are quite weird. But such turned out to be the people of the region in which I was born and raised, such were even people I know and with whom I was on good terms, as I told you in my previous post. Maybe it's just that people everywhere have already become weird. They have become such because they have encapsulated themselves in their own daily lives, they do not pay attention to anyone outside their own limited circle and horizons and nothing else is concerned but their own interest. Nothing else that would concern someone else's life, suffering, opinion, ideas about life, desires and feelings.

Haven't we lost the humane in us for a long time? And that's why it's the turn of machines, and that's why this replacement will take place quickly and easily, we've almost become machines in so many ways...

My partner has been helping our neighbors, who are already adults, perhaps my parents' age, to deal with a bank application, ie. to do bank transfers. One day he was not home, and he called me to tell me that I had to go to them to help them with the transfer.
I did it. I went there, for the first time I crossed the threshold of their property, I was invited to their house. They behaved extremely respectfully with me, showing respect and gratitude. For having to help them.

I was invited to the guest room, I sat on a bed, the man sat next to me, showed me his phone, everything got settled for a few seconds. We're done with the job and then it started... the conversation.
The two adults obviously had a problem with one of their children, which turned out to be almost my age. The mother did not sit all the time, she stood up straight, and once the conversation began, as out of nowhere, she did not stop talking and talking, complaining. The words poured out of her mouth, as if barely restrained, as if standing there for months, years, with no one to share. She said she did not communicate with the people of the village, because these were people whose topics of conversation were only about their children and they constantly boasted of their children, and she had nothing to boast. That's why she didn't want to talk to anyone.

This was the moment for me to say something, too, having had my own share of such situations in life. I won’t go into details, not today, I’m not in the mood to write about this now. I simply know what she’s talking about, but I also know what it's like for a parent to be ashamed of their children's life - of the fact that things didn’t turn out the way you, as a parent, had imagined they would. You had imagined those things happened to everyone by default - or at least, that’s how it sounds when parents brag about their children.
She said something like: Everyone holds their life in their own hands and shapes it themselves.
No, I said, no one is the master of their own life, it is all a matter of luck and fate. They shouldn’t blame their child for the things that happened to him, or didn’t happen. They shouldn’t blame one child for not being like the other. But above all, they shouldn’t blame him for having tried, for having made an effort at one thing or another, only for nothing to work out in the end. Who can be blamed for something like that?

I don’t know if the two of them understood me. The man listened to me very carefully, sitting beside me, even though he didn’t take an active part in the conversation. It was mostly his wife who spoke, but from time to time he would look up and say, "Exactly."
I was looking at a truly devastated man beside me. His wife, too, looked desperate. So I gave it a try. I spoke openly about what I thought, on a subject I understand well, and tried to calm them down somehow.
The conversation dragged on for a long time.

And yet, I haven't forgotten. These are the people who wouldn't greet me for two and a half years after we moved here. Me specifically - not my partner.
For two and a half years, we would cross paths on the street, or I would see them as I walked past their house, and he or she would turn their head away when I greeted them.
An acquaintance suggested that perhaps I spoke too softly, they didn't hear me, which was why they didn't greet me back. So, that day, I tried speaking more loudly, though it was actually unnecessary - they heard and understood absolutely everything I said that day, regardless of the volume of my voice.
And that day, I received confirmation regarding all those years they had looked the other way - that they had, in fact, always heard and understood me.

Of course, that period had long since passed. They had started greeting me as if by magic; something had simply changed in them.

But then, one of our cats disappeared. I went to show the man a photograph of the cat and told him: "I think someone shot her."

"Oh, nonsense," he said. "Who would shoot a cat?"

But this was misleading on my part and I did it on purpose, because I know very well that this man has an air rifle and I know very well that her wife was complaining that this specific cat was visiting often their garden. Years ago, other of our cats came home with holes in their feet, I think these were traces of air rifle bullets. I don't know how many people in this village have and use air rifles against cats, but the most logical assumption on my part is that the reason for all this is the person who is closest - our neighbor.

And now, seeing this man literally ruined, sitting on the bed next to me, for a moment I imagined him saying: We are extremely sorry that we did not greet you for two and a half years.

Or: I'm so sorry I shot your cat.

How would I react then? Would I say: Oh, no problem for that. Everything is forgotten.
When this is not forgotten at all.

No, to say this person something like that is very unlikely. These people are not one to say sorry. I'm even sure they don't think they did something to apologize for. Everything was fine probably, absolutely everything, according to their views on life.

Later, when my partner returned home and I told him what had happened, he was first amazed that they had told me all this. Secondly, however, he assumed that half of the things were not true compared to what he had heard from them himself.

I have this one, I called it an ability, but I already think it's a negative thing that often happens to me - people to share things with me that would not otherwise tell everyone. I thought it happened with these people now too. But the assumption that probably much of what they said may not be true really puzzles me. Because, honestly, why would anyone do that? I mean, inviting someone to your house, take their time, talk to them a lot of things to affect them emotionally, complain, almost cry, and then turn out that you still didn't tell the truth. Who needs all this?

Oh wait, I haven't forgotten what these people actually did years ago... So how they would change?

Thank you for your time! Copyright:	@soulsdetour
	Soul's Detour is a project started by me years ago when I had a blog about historical and not so popular tourist destinations in Eastern Belgium, West Germany and Luxembourg. Nowadays, this blog no longer exists, but I'm still here - passionate about architecture, art and mysteries and eager to share my discoveries and point of view with you.

Personally, I am a sensitive soul with a strong sense of justice.
Traveling and photography are my greatest passions.
Sounds trivial to you?
No, it's not trivial. Because I still love to travel to not so famous destinations.🗺️
Of course, the current situation does not allow me to do this, but I still find a way to satisfy my hunger for knowledge, new places, beauty and art.
Sometimes you can find the most amazing things even in the backyard of your house.😊🧐🧭|