I’m oh so tired, not because I did the cooking for thanksgiving. No I was a guest at my son Rafe’s home where the menu was traditional but beautifully presented, where family abound and friends joined in, and where laughter was ever present. Politics was not center stage, but questions on what was important to each of us were asked. Some came from Chicago and New York but most from western Massachusetts where the protagonist of my serial murder mysteries operates as Major Crimes Unit Captain Rudy Beauregard. Don’t think I didn’t ask the other guests whether family or friends what they thought of the possibility of sociopaths in their midst. But it was not a day for dark thoughts and their answers were funny, succinct, but allowed for the reality of this type of personality as perhaps up to 4% of the population. We thank the economists who remind us that statistical concepts are based on large populations and any one statistic is not toe be interpreted in an individual case; otherwise we would be looking around for the 4% in our midst.
So why am I so tired? I only brought pies and proseco to the dinner, and I am ashamed to say that I didn’t make the pies. Although I did buy them at a market known for its homemade pies and cakes. I’m tired because I spent seven hours amongst the people I love the most. That means that I absorbed every nuance of their lives as shared with me. Some are making major changes in their lives; all for the good but I worry. Worrying is tiring. Why do I worry? I worry because i want so much for them to reach their goals, to have good lives, and to be happy. I worry because i can’t do it for them as in the past i could have impact. I’m like you and so after the holidays I am tired.
But tomorrow is another day. A day to realize that they are strong and resilient and I have imparted what I know and I hope it will be enough along with all the knowledge that they’ve picked up from others. So I wish them, my family and friends, and all your familes and friends a good and healthy and happy future post holiday madness.
K. B. Pellegrino
Kathleen lives with her husband Joe and their dog Othello midst their large family in Springfield, Massachusetts.
"My love affair with plots, murder, mystery, spies and, in general, with crime novels began at an early age. I read and read – probably have read 2,000 crime novels since then. Even at an early age, I developed my own plots if only to cover up my misdeeds to the chagrin of my family and teachers. Some less creative called it fibbing!
Now I write from the love of plot – of people and their ways –of life – of philosophy – about crime –about the sociopath/psychopath."
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