Grey Areas

"C" and I had the most interesting string of conversations this weekend about the grey areas of life. Is it gray or grey? tomato or toomatooo. all the same I suppose.

Grey as in in judgement. As in how we use judgement to effect other people, what is right and wrong and how sometimes it's just not our place to inquire and sometimes it is.



San Diego. The horrible news about the family who lost their beautiful daughter last week to the animal now in custody. I said I had been thinking about that man's parents. A neighbor obviously distraught had spray painted a note on the parents garage. "Get Out...you are not welcome here". I wondered about them, the parents of someone who is obviously mentally ill. Parents of someone who is a disgusting human being. I wondered what they felt about these things, if they knew, did they protect him, did they suspect, were they in denial or were they taking him to therapy daily or weekly trying to make him better. Were they tired of taking care of someone who was sick and ignored it? Maybe they thought he was well, and now they are paying the price along side him. Chris and I talked about that grey area. No one will know what they did or didn't do to stop that horrible crime from happening. We do not walk in their shoes. I am so glad not to be walking in their shoes.



And more Grey.
We watched The Reader on Saturday night. I read the book last year so I knew the story. And afterwards Chris commented how depressing the movie was and I commented how it wasn't to me. The grey areas of life again. The small notes of humanity and kindness sliced into the most horrible crimes. Even in the face of historic atrocities there is grey.

It never seems to be black or white unless you want it to be. What's the purpose of this post? I'm not sure. Just an observation of how life is never what it seems.

photos and jewelry by urban design a much more pleasant way to think of grey if you ask me.