That Smarts

“You are going nowhere fast, Sylvia. That may sound harsh, but it’s the truth,” Erma cautions her best friend.

Sylvia could feel those words going into her core like a knife. No anesthesia. No sugar-coating. Erma, never one to mince words with Sylvia –the woman to whom she vowed brutal honesty and unwavering support –was certainly living up to her end of that deal. With a tone of equal parts disappointment (in herself and Erma) and reluctant acceptance, Sylvia replies, “Ouch. That really smarts!”

Smarts. It is a curious expression, don’t you agree? Smart is generally associated with intelligence and  sharpness – both in appearance and intellect. “He’s such a smart dresser.” “She has such a wry sense of humor and can be a real smart aleck!”  The verb though is a whole different ball of wax. “That smarts.” That hurts. It stings. When something smarts, well, it is the result of a painful remark or misstep. In this case, Sylvia feels wounded, almost bitten. She knows that Erma’s comment is meant to be constructive in some way; but at that moment, Sylvia cannot figure out her friend’s intention. The truth hurts; of that, she is abundantly aware.

“Erma, what do you mean? Why would you say that? After all, I’ve been on-the-go since the beginning of the year pretty much,” Sylvia questions. “I’m going somewhere. “

Recognizing the hurt and defensiveness in her friend’s tone, Erma realizes her statement demands clarification. “Nowhere. I didn’t mean that the way it came out. What I should have said is that you always amaze me. No plan. No painstakingly contrived itinerary. You’ll go anywhere! Anywhere is nowhere without a name, a ticket, or a place to call your own.”

That smarts. Sylvia decides to pull out the knife, dress the wound, and begin again in this moment.

“There would have been more I love yous … more I’m sorrys … more I’m listenings … but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute of it … look at it and really see it … try it on … live it … exhaust it … and never give that minute back until there was nothing left of it.” ~Erma Bombeck