Tag: words

fawtle – n. a weird little flaw built into your partner that somehow only endears them more to you, in the way that impurities dissolved in water are what allow it to conduct electricity – if all the imperfections were removed, there would be no spark.

I won’t give you a specific, as it’s not really something I’d share, but my wife has a quirk that used to really annoy me. In some sense, it was a thing that I think I tried to avoid in myself.

However.

Over time, I realize this is a part of who she is. She knows it, the kids know it, I know it and not only accept it, but I can smile to myself a little and appreciate why the thing makes her unique and wonderful.

The more you find fawtle in others, the more you enjoy their differences from you and others.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

etherness – n. the wistful feeling of looking around a gathering of loved ones, all too aware that even though the room is filled with warmth and laughter now, it won’t always be this way – that the coming years will steadily break people away into their own families, or see them pass away one by one, until there comes a time when you’ll look back and try to imagine what it felt like to have everyone together in the same place.

That’s a somewhat bleak look at reality. I think etherness is understandable and natural. Families grow and change, and even if there aren’t children, there is death.

My wife and already have experienced this, as our oldest has a partner and we have to “share” them for holidays. We alternate Thanksgiving and Christmas already, and other family events are becoming more challenging, both because of other family commitments, but also career and life scheduling.

I don’t really dread things changing, and while there is a sadness, I accept it’s a part of life. Things change, and while it would be great if my family kept coming to my house (or me to theirs), I also know the other side of families for children and relatives feels the same way. We can’t all get what we want.

We certainly can’t always get what we want.

Instead I cherish and appreciate what I do have, and the moments I get to spend with family and friends.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

dead reckoning– v. intr. finding yourself bothered by somebody’s death more than you would have expected, even if they were only an abstract presence in your life, like a lighthouse in the distance that suddenly goes dark, leaving you with one less landmark to navigate by.

I hope many of you don’t deal with death too often, though as you age, this is one of the worst things about living longer. You see more people die.

It sucks. Every time I update sqlmemorial.org, I’m sad.

It’s been surprising to me how often I feel dead reckoning, sometimes after someone I don’t even know personally dies. Prince affected me that way, and every time I hear a song from him I feel more sadness and loss than I would have expected.

I hope you don’t experience this a lot, but the more you live life and engage with others, the more likely it this is something with which you have to cope.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

foilsick – adj. feeling ashamed after revealing a little too much of yourself to someone – allowing them too clear a view of your pettiness, your anger, your cowardice, your childlike vulnerability – wishing you could somewhat take back the moment, bolting the door after a storm had already blown it off its hinges.

What a visual. The door blown off its hinges from a storm, and you desperately trying to set it back into the opening.

Blurting out something in an emotional moment is likely something many people have done. I would guess parents as much as teenagers feel foilsick after an argument or a moment of passion in which they say something they didn’t mean.

In the modern world, we might do that with messages or emails as well. I find myself trying to avoid putting myself into the place where I might feel foilsick and I often take a moment to draft something in Joplin (my notetaking app) before I put it into Slack or email. I can’t accidentally send it and then feel some regret over what I said.

I think the avoidance of ever feeling foilsick often leads many of us to not say something we feel, or admit a challenge, precisely so that we aren’t vulnerable and regret our words. As I grow older, I realize that being vulnerable isn’t going to create a foilsick feeling in many cases. It’s going to bring me closer to someone else, or help them help me.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows