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I am sorry I have not written. As Anne Sexton aptly put it — it’s hard to write when one is gritting one’s teeth.
I will not give any more excuses because what I have learned about apologies is this: excuses dilute them. Instead of going on and on about why I deserve your forgiveness, I will thank you.
I’m sorry I haven’t written. Thank you for continuing to support me.
This, I have learned, is how you apologize. How you turn a mistake, an error, into grace. In my attempt to get your forgiveness, I will also use this apology to regain trust and maybe, even my character. And maybe, if done right, come out with more respect than I had before.
My husband leaves Sunday for Europe for a week. Instead of saying “I’m sorry this has been hard,” he says, “I got you help. What do you want me to do?”
And I find myself saying thank you…
This is how resentment breeds.
Even though I know I shouldn’t, even though I know it will not end with the apology I seek, his refusal causes me to ignite. So I say the words that have been drafting inside me for days — since I learned about this next trip.
“When you are in London, can you do me one thing? Don’t bring your mother around to meet your work colleagues. I have yet to meet them. You can see her — dinner, brunch, lunch, I don’t care. But introducing her to people I haven’t met would be hurtful to me.”
Instead of saying “Of course. And I’m sorry you’re in this position again — alone with the kids for a week, two weeks in one month” — he tells me not to tell him what to do. He does “not like to be controlled.”
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