Mom’s Chronic Tardiness
From audio journal episode: 2002-01-05-12-39.
A way to improve getting along with others: Pick my battles. In other words, when someone says or commits a contentions act (in my view), before I pipe up and tell them that I disagree, I should ask myself: Is it in my best interest to fight this? Will this advance my position? What will the real benefit be, of convincing them that my way of seeing the issue is better? Watch out however, for declaring that my way is  the right  way. Instead of  right,  use the word preferable. The word right is too absolute. Indeed if convincing them (or not) does not truly benefit me, then I shall not argue. I’ll say nothing. I’ll endeavor to see the truth in their position, and readily acknowledge it. But I will not voice opposition, just because I am opposed, unless again, doing so will simplify my job. Also, the benefit should be something more worthwhile than victory or winning over my opponent.Â
I had an opportunity to argue with mother yesterday, and declined it. We had an appointment at the lawyer’s for 1:00 PM, and at 12:40 PM, she was still puttering around. So, I mentioned that we’d best get going, in as cordial a tone as I could muster, because time was running short. She snapped, “I know, I know!”  Well apparently, she didn’t know, because we arrived at the appointment twenty minutes late.Â
Now this didn’t really hurt anything. But I detest getting to places late. I believe in punctuality, because it’s one of those golden rule things: Do unto others as you would have others do unto you. I hate waiting around for people; particularly when the person I’m waiting for agreed to meet me at a certain time, and then they arrive late. Plus, I’m sure that for the most part, people wouldn’t like waiting around for me. So I make every effort not to be tardy. Thus, they rarely have to wait around for me, because I’m almost always on time. On those rare occasions when I’m late, it’s nearly always due to situations beyond my control.Â
When Mom realized what time it was in the car as we drove to the lawyer, she said to me, “Next time, tell me to hurry up, because I thought it was a lot earlier than it turned out to be.” So, it’s my fault that she’s late, because as she describes it, I didn’t tell her what time it was.  She seemed to think this to be the result of some failing on my part. She sounded quite accusatory, as though I should have known to tell her.Â
At first, her attitude angered me. It really did. But then, I restrained myself, remembering that no matter what she said, I did nothing wrong, and far be it for her to suggest that I had. I don’t do wrong simply because she says I do. More precisely: What I do (or fail to do) is not wrong just because she says so. So I realized as I caught myself within three minutes after the exchange, that I did not cause her to be late; her own negligence did.Â
She should take responsibility, and know what time it is. There are all sorts of clocks around. I’ve got three or four myself. I have one in the office, and three in the bedroom, and that doesn’t even count the clocks on each of my computers. Plus, I’m often calling the Duquesne Light number in Pittsburgh [412-391-9500], to check the temperature. The announcement also provides the time. So, I usually know within an hour or two what time it is, and I don’t need others to keep reminding me.Â
Mom has clocks too. She’s got the one on the microwave oven and another on the stove.  There’s one in her car. Her roommate has a watch.  There’s the clock radio in her bedroom and two televisions on the first floor alone. Plus, you can always buy more clocks if you need them. Indeed, there are plenty of inexpensive ways to stay on time. So it puzzles me why she has so much trouble doing it. The only answer I have is that she just wishes not to bother, and therein lays the real source of my aggravation. She could, with a modicum of effort, be on time. But she’d just as soon inconvenience others by not only being chronically late, but by blaming those close to her for making her late. Aaaaaarrrrrrggggggghhhhhh!Â
Her accusing me is ludicrous, and even though she voiced the words, it’s still ludicrous; the fact that she’s my mother notwithstanding. Even Moms can have ridiculous notions now and then, and this one proves that my mom sure can.Â
But I don’t need to get upset. Though I suppose there’s every reason to get angry (clearly, the deficiency here is hers, and not mine), it’s nonetheless irrational to do so.  No matter what she says, I still remain whole, and unharmed. So there isn’t any justification for my anger. She has not slighted me personally, because I don’t allow that to happen. Now I might have in previous years, taken her accusations personally. But these only become true slights if I embrace them as slights, and since I refuse to do that, then it follows that she did not slight me. She did not, because I allowed her not. So, I aspire not to get angry because I refuse to see her accusations as personal attacks. Besides, winning this fight (had I allowed the contention to become a fight) would not really benefit me in this situation. Indeed, we were already late, and all the fighting in the world would not change that. I choose thus not to fight over non-slights, and in this way, I pick my battles, avoiding many confrontations that I would not avoid if I stood up and pounded my chest anytime someone disagrees with me. Not every disagreement is worth a fight.Â
Tom Hesley