Selling Family Secrets

The more I blog, the more I find myself wondering where to draw the line. There are lots of funny stories I could share. Lots of everyday happenings. But which would be meaningful to my reading public? Which would possibly embarrass those I care about? And which would be just downright mean or insensitive of me to post?

I think I’m definitely capable of judging (and avoiding) the latter category. But in some of the other areas the line is by no means as clear. My hope is that I stay on the “safe” side of that line.

My grandfather was a lawyer in a small Western NY town. He was also active in local politics in that town. The family had to keep up appearances. Anything that leaked out about the family that was in anyway unfavorable could be used against Grandpa in the next election. The whole family knew to keep their family business inside the family (I promise they weren’t members of the mafia).

One day, when my dad was a grade-schooler (maybe six or seven years old), he went out to play. His mom watched him from the window as he pulled his little red wagon down the driveway and parked it on the sidewalk. He sat down in it and waited. Soon a few passers-by began to stop. Grandma laughed at this and went about her work. Several hours later, she looked back out the window to find her son, still with his little red wagon on the sidewalk, but now with a large line of people waiting to talk to him. Needless to say, she was very curious.

When Dad came in the house a little later to get something for lunch, Grandma asked him what he’d been doing. Not missing a beat, Dad proclaimed: “Selling family secrets.” And doing a roaring business by the looks of it!

Although the family can now laugh about this, I’m sure at the time they all wondered if that invisible line had been crossed. If something harmful had been said.

In some cases, sharing personal experiences can be very beneficial – even if they are of a sensitive nature.

Between Elijah and Dylan, I had a miscarriage. Though not something that comes up in a typical conversation, I felt I should share this information with a few people. One whom I told later had a miscarriage herself and was able to talk to me about it as someone she knew would understand. Another friend was concerned about the possibility of miscarrying. I was able to discuss with her what I had experienced. This made her a little more at ease, knowing that if it did happen at least she would know what was going on (as I told her, it’s pretty hard not to recognize it if it happens).

I’m definitely not saying we should all take to airing our dirty laundry on the web or even with our friends and family. What I am saying is that I hope we’re all aware of where our own “line” is. And that we fiercely guard it.

I’ve found that knowing when to share an experience can be a great gift. But knowing when to keep something private is an even greater one.

And now I’ll come down from my soapbox and return to sitting in my little red wagon. Feel free to send money for any of my “family secrets” that you find amusing!