May I tell you some good news?

I have become what I feared the most. A doomsday teller regarding daily news and event happenings. My father was the king of kings in this respect. He could tell the latest, greatest disaster about people or places better than anyone. I always disliked this trait and found myself tuning him out about such dread. I have become this. Yesterday, I found myself quoting MSN news topics to my husband. The most recent horrible, tragic occurances around the world. As I asked him did he know about the ex-Florida football player dying, I heard my father within myself. I became angry. I became cynical. I was shocked to see in myself the very thing that drove me crazy about my father. As I found sleep hard to come by last night, I got up and started reading news events that were positive and uplifting. I began placing the good stuff in my memory and shoving out that doomsday info. I have no idea why my father always wanted to talk about the bad stuff, only to say, the times when I do this, I am feeling bad about myself, so I want to talk bad about something else. I remember how much I resented him telling a bad story about someone or something that had happened. As I am trying to raise two teenagers, I am ashamed at choosing the same dreaded pathway my father chose. Today, I am going to tell of good things. Like the puppies resued from the river. Like the father who has supported his daughter unselfishly and now sits watching her play for the championship. Like my sister-in-law sweetly planning a baby shower for our other sister-in-law. Like the nice man who got me a shopping cart yesterday. Couples celebrating their 50 th wedding anniversary. My good news is I was embarrassed to hear myself talk at the dinner table last night. I was ashamed at my sharp, harsh words aimed at people I love. I was hurt to see the reflection of my father in the words coming from my mouth. I want to be better. I want to do a good job of telling the good news.