Apology Accepted

So far (and it’s already almost noon) today has been good…you know the kind of day when the barista gets the strange concoction I always request just right, Sirius plays the good stuff, and someone who makes me nuts is OFF! Things just really aren’t that big of a deal today. This makes me question why I let things bother me so much on other days. I have to wonder if my “chemical imbalance” (code for crazy ass depression and free floating crazy making anxiety) have anything to do with it? I mean, seriously, I am so damned sensitive at times. And oddly enough, when I am overly sensitive, I tend to say the most insensitive of things. I make people hate me so they will leave me alone. So, of course, what follows are several days of a vicious cycle of hurt feelings, fretting and lots of emotional eating. Never good.

Speaking of hurt feelings...I have some thoughts…some stories.

Several years ago, Bobbie Jo and I went on a trip to Orlando with my sister and her children. I’m thinking my nephew was 5 or so then. And although he was a very cute child and seeing him see Mickey was quite entertaining, the whole experience was a bit overwhelming at times. So, one night Bobbie Jo and I took my nephew to Wal-Mart. (Before you say anything, this was before I knew what I know now about Wal-Mart. This was also before I knew what I know now about children.) Anyway, he was awful that night, testing the patience of both of us and just trying his best to get in trouble. And he succeeded. He got a pop on the butt from Bobbie Jo which I’m sure he could barely even feel, but it embarrassed him and sent him into a wailing fit for what seemed like hours. He wouldn’t speak to Bobbie Jo for a couple of days. Finally, my sister grew tired of his bratty behavior and told him he had to apologize to Bobbie Jo. She had talked it out with him and had told him to tell Bobbie Jo he was sorry at breakfast that morning. When Bobbie Jo walked in that morning after her run, my nephew sheepishly walked up to her and said, “Bobbie Jo, I’m sorry you hurt my feelings.”

My kind of apology. Never admit guilt.

In what should be unrelated (but it never is) news…Monday was my mom’s birthday. We had thought about going over to her house on Sunday since I knew I would have to work Monday, but we never made it over that way, and I just assumed we would all be getting together Monday evening (since Monday was a holiday and the actual day of her birthday) to celebrate. So, I called her Monday morning to wish her a happy birthday and to listen to her litany of ailments. (Please God, don't let me act like I'm 100 when I'm 65. And no, my mom doesn't read this blog, so don't freak out about it, PJ...now back to the story.) Trying to turn the conversation to a brighter topic, I asked, “So, what are we doing for your birthday?” She replied very matter of factly, "We did all that yesterday." She then proceeded to tell me that my stepfather had grilled steaks and my brother and Banana and my sister all came over for a little celebration. I didn’t hear much else after that. She went on and on about the gifts she got and how excited she was that my sister had actually come over. I just wasn’t sure what to say after that. I ended the conversation and finished my day at work. On the way home I thought about what I could have done to have caused PJ and I to be excluded from the birthday dinner, but I couldn’t come up with anything really. Usually I know what’s bothering her no matter how ridiculous it is. I can usually see it coming. This time I'm stumped. Maybe she just didn't want us to participate? And what am I supposed to do with that?

Maybe I will call her and say, “Mother, I’m sorry you hurt my feelings.”

Maybe not. Maybe I will just go on about my life as usual…trying to make my life as different from her life as I possibly can.

Comments

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you have to remember.... it is all about her..... and you might have taken away from her attention...