The holiday season is upon us and this year is no different than the previous two years. As I look across the figurative table, there is another empty seat. This year it was the passing of my father. Last year it was my grandfather and the year before that was my stepmother.
These three people have something in common. I feel like they each owed me something. Not in the terms of money, but of apologies. I feel as though they wronged me and owe me at least one "I am sorry." I think about this quite often and I wonder if it would change anything for me. Their apologies won't undo the harm they caused. Their apologies won't make it all better. I sometimes think it would help me, but I know better by now. Their debts are better left unpaid. I don't want to hold an IOU against their souls, assuming there is such a thing. I have tried for decades to let it all go and move on, but I can't seem to shake the feeling that hearing those two words would make me feel better. That those two words would repay the debts owed. That those two words would heal the wounds that time has not. I'll never hear those two words from them and I guess that has to be okay. I will pretend they said them with sincerity. Maybe I can pretend those words into reality, I'll heal, and life will continue on until it is my turn to say them to the people I have wronged.
Death is a relief for some people. My father for example, wanted to die. He couldn't bear his life without his deceased wife. When she died, he wanted nothing more than to go with her. It's a shame that he had children that could have used a father, but his grief was too much to live with.
No comments:
Post a Comment