Should We Really Do Unto Others?

I think I ruined a friendship with my friend Virginia.  I often have very morbid, very frightening dreams.    One time, I had a dream a guy was chopping my friend Jennifer's head with an ax and slicing off chunks of her skull as we ran from him.  After almost nine years of marriage, Gadget Man is sick and tired of hearing all the horrific things my mind makes up while I'm sleeping.  Anyway, I had a dream that Virginia's son Grant died.  I was spared the details surrounding the death, but in my dream, I was at Virginia's house and I couldn't stop crying. It was so real, that while I was dreaming, I kept praying to myself over and over again, "This has to be a dream.  This has to be a dream."  When I woke up, the first thing I thought was, "Thank G-d!  It was a dream after all!"  I was relieved.  After all, I'm not at all psychic.  NONE of my dreams has ever come remotely true.  Regardless, I was really, really haunted.  I couldn't shake my fear and my sadness all morning.  I had been up at 5 a.m., and by 8 a.m. I picked up the phone to call Virginia.  I had to know that Grant was all right.

Had the conversation gone like this, Virginia would still be my friend:  "Hi Virginia, it's Sophia.  How are you and the kids?"  "Oh, fine?  Well, I just called to say hi . . ."  Instead, I acted like a complete dope.  "Hi Virginia, it's Sophia.  Is Grant ok?"  Virginia replied, "Yes, why?"  Then I said, "Well, I had a really bad dream about him and I really need to know he is ok."  "What happened in the dream?  Wait, don't tell me, I don't want to know."  "I'm not going to tell you.  Just give him a big hug and a kiss for me, ok?"  Then Virginia asked, "Is there anything I need to watch out for today?  Should I keep him out of the car?"  I replied, "No, no.  Nothing like that.  Something happened to him, but don't worry, I'm not at all psychic.  I have freaky dreams all the time and nothing ever happens."  Virginia pushed on, "Was it an accident of some kind?"  Stupidly, I blurted, "He died.  I don't know how.  My dream was that I was at your house and I couldn't stop crying.  That was it. Don't worry, I have had a dream my brother died and another friend died, and nothing ever happened to them.  I'm not psychic."  Poor Virginia was unhinged,  "Oh my G-d!  I have to go.  I have to go.  Bye."  Then she hung up.  Immediately, I knew I had screwed up.  Trying to take the giant foot out of my mouth, I called her back -- voicemail.  "Virginia, I'm so sorry I told you that.  It was really selfish of me and I didn't stop to think how it would affect you.  I hope you will forgive me."

Well, I haven't been forgiven.  In fact, I didn't hear from Virginia until days afterward when, thankfully, the telephone rang and she came up on the caller id.  Maybe she has forgotten all about my dream, I thought hopefully.  "Hi!"  I exclaimed cheerfully.  "HI.  Wait, Laura?"  For crying out loud, she had dialed my number by mistake!  "Wait, Virginia, before you hang up, can I talk to you for a minute?  Are you mad at me?"  I asked stupidly.  "Well Sophia, I just don't understand why you told me that.  Would you have wanted me to tell you if I had had such a terrible dream?"  I had to pause for a moment. That was a really good question.  Honestly, I don't think I would have minded.  Of course it would have been upsetting, but because of my history with morbid dreams, I would have understood her need to unload.   Besides, I think about my kids dying all the time.  In fact, I think about a lot of people I love dying.  It is some kind of neuroses I have.  I'm pretty sure it is not normal.  I decided this wasn't the time to tell her all of this, so I replied, "No, I guess not.  I wasn't thinking.  It was a total lapse in judgment.  I hope you can forgive me."  She wasn't persuaded. "I just don't know what kind of person does that." 

When I hung up the telephone I pondered the Golden Rule, "Do unto others as you would have done unto you."  According to Wikipedia, this advice has quite an ancient history.  When it comes to most things, as in, the biblical story of the Good Samaritan, it is a good rule to live by.  In other words, help those in need.  But what about the words we utter?  Should we really talk to others the way we would like to be spoken to?  In the case of Virginia, I should have known better.   First of all, I'm the nutty one with all the morbid thoughts.  If I stopped to think about it, most parents do not have such ideas rolling around in their heads.  Second, Virginia is probably extra-sensitive regarding the well-being of children, since she used to be a social worker in the Children's Memorial Hospital oncology department.   Had I been mindful of anyone else's needs but my own, I would have kept my mouth shut.  I certainly can't judge Virginia if she chooses never to forgive me.  After all, I'm the one with the freaky dreams, and I'm the one who lacks the good sense to keep them to myself.  Then again, I'd like to think that, had she been the one who had suffered a lapse in judgment, she would like to be forgiven.

This is an original post to Chicago Moms Blog.  Sophia Leto (a.k.a. Moody Mommy) rants and raves on her blog at www.moodymommy.wordpress.com