Last week proved to be quite dramatic in our house, one marked by a constant reminder of how thin a line it is that we walk in all aspects of our lives. The most obvious drama we experienced was one revolving around Holy week and one in which the Christian calendar and Jewish calendar overlapped. That became our first ultimate symbol of how fine a line there is between cultures and people, and after further examination of the two traditions, it became evident how truly similar we are.
Another fine line we witnessed was the one pertaining to truth. Although truth is what we always strive for, an explanation became necessary in order concerning the “little white lie” and how sometimes we tell “white lies” to spare someone’s feelings.
So then the fine line between “white lies” and the topic of holiday characters and are they real or not appeared. “Is there really a tooth fairy? Is there really an Easter bunny? But Santa is real, right?” Me and two sets of eyes staring at me. In my head, I’m thinking, “There’s a fine line…” So of course, I did what every parent does when confronted with the truth about holiday characters: I told the truth.
Then ironically on Easter Sunday, I had to face a bit of truth from my own childhood. My grandparents had two dogs that ran out of the yard and never returned. As a child, I was told that they must have been picked up by someone. The truth came out to me that they were both hit by cars and killed. I had suspected the truth, but never heard it. My family knew I was too sensitive, too emotional, and protected me from the truth because they knew I’d be devastated by it. (They were right. I was a kid that couldn’t watch Lassie without being emotionally traumatized for weeks afterwards).
And that’s when I realized in my own moment of truth how fine a line there is between childhood and parenthood.