The February 2010 issue of O Magazine arrived in the mail the other day. At the back of the magazine in the monthly column called “What I Know for Sure,” Oprah said something that caught my eye.
The topic of this month’s column is keeping your word. Oprah tells a story about having to cancel an engagement—the 10thAnniversary of The Vagina Monologues. She says:
“Oh, how it pained me to make that phone call to Eve Ensler the Monologue’s brilliant creator, to say I wouldn’t be able to keep my word.”
Here’s the line that made me think:
“The reason I so rarely break promises to other people? It breaks trust. Without trust there’s no relationship.”
I immediately thought of the conversation I had with my Dad around Christmas when he told me about his relationship with my Mom. He said, “She kept breaking her promises.” (See my blog dated 12/20/09.) These promises were all about the same issue: to stop smoking.
My Dad was always a militant anti-smoker. While in the military he was given the job to clean up the litter on an Army Air Force Base where he was stationed. He refused to pick up cigarette butts. His commanding officer ordered him to. He declined. He ended up cleaning toilets for insubordination. I asked him why he wasn’t thrown out of the military. He said it was WWII and the U.S. Government needed every G.I. it could get.
When I was little, my Dad used to yell at people at restaurants and public places to quit smoking. I was so embarrassed! He complained about the dangers of second-hand smoke before anyone knew what he was talking about. (He STILL yells at people who smoke in his presence. But now I get the point!)
In 1976 my Dad was one of the original members of G.A.S.P. in California—Group Against Smoking Pollution. Their mascot was a cartoon bird wearing a gas mask. My Dad pasted a bumper sticker on his car. He handed out pamphlets.
I was amazed when my Dad told me—with regret in his voice—about my Mom’s refusing to stop smoking after two decades of promising she would. As Oprah said, broken promises = no trust = no relationship. I guess the natural consequence under these conditions would be that their marriage would fail.
My Mom NEVER mentioned the broken promises in her version of the demise of her marriage. She played the victim of adultery to the hilt. She was the aggrieved party. She was the “innocent” party.
I was also angry after my Dad told me about the broken promises. My Mom blamed my Dad for everything that went wrong in her life. What a crock. She needed to look in the mirror. I wish I would have known this info sooner—like thirty years ago. I would have set my Mom straight. I would not feel so fooled all these years.
I sided with my Mom after my parent’s divorce. I detest infidelity. (Talk about a broken promise!) I felt my Mom’s embarrassment. My Dad exposed me to the Black Haired Spaghetti who I hated with a passion. (There are previous blogs about her, the wicked stepmother, such as 9/03/09.) All of which could have been avoided if people kept their promises.
Last thought about broken promises: I heard this saying MANY years ago. I don’t remember who said it (or what the context was), but the sentiment left a big impression on me: “We are most like God when we keep our promises.” Interesting…
As I said in my blog of 12/20, a family torn asunder over cigarettes. Yuk. Yuk. Yuk.
I think I’ll continue on this smoking rant in another blog—about how my brother, sister, and I reacted to my Mom’s smoking as children, when and why she FINALLY quit, and what finally killed her. Stay tuned…
