Sister Apologizes and Wants to Reunite with Sister

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cathy Dear J

I am sorry that we never got to be sisters.

It has been three years since we last had any sort of contact. The way our last conversation ended left me reeling and confused. To this day it feels like I was talking to a different person.

When you made contact with the family 16 years ago, I was over the moon. My big sister had found us.  I was told about you when I was five years old. My father’s daughter from a brief relationship that took place two years before our father met my mother.

We had no contact growing up. You were raised by your grandparents after your own mother became ill. These lovely grandparents of yours blocked all access to you, we never got to spend one day with together.

Our father was denied any contact with you. Knowing him as the father he was, this would have broken his heart.

You were 15 years old, I was 9 and our brother was only 9 months old when our father passed away. Although taken from us early, my memories of him are strong.  He was a warm, loving man with a wicked sense of humour, always ready with a dirty joke to amuse his mates and horrify my mother. He loved to hunt and shoot and fish and would do anything for the little guy. A loveable rogue.

We were lucky enough to be surrounded by a multitude of Aunts and Uncles  and cousins who did their best to tell us stories of Bobby, so our brother and I knew him as a person as well as a father.  The tales they told didn’t always show Dad in a good light, but they were told with love and fondness that you could tell they weren’t just telling them because he passed away, they were telling them because they were true.

You had to wait until you were an adult before you could make contact with us.   You endured years of being told that our father wanted nothing to do with you, that you were an embarrassment to him.  He had a family now, why would he want anything to do with you. This was ingrained in you and sent your sense of self-worth crashing through the floor.

Honestly it makes me so angry because it ultimately meant that our sisterly relationship never took flight.

In the past 16 years we only met in person one time. I was struck by how alike we seemed. You were taller than me (not saying much, you are all of 5 ft 2), same brown eyes, same body shape, same curly hair although yours is darker. The bit that shook me the most, you have our father’s smile. I hadn’t seen that smile in over 20 years.

I was so happy to learn you had two kids, at least someone was keeping the bloodline going.  Your son looks just like our brother only with red hair. Your daughthas the Morris physique, which basically means she looks like Mrs Potts from Beauty and the Beast.

But like I said , we never really got going did we?

We wrote to eacher other a few times send Christmas cards and make the occasional phone call. But no real connection.

I had to keep reminding myself that the fact we had any contact at all was nothing short of miraculous. But I felt ripped off.

Aren’t sisters supposed to be close? Aren’t we supposed to do girly things like swap clothes? Have some sort of sister code?

We never got to do any of that.

Cut to the last time we had a conversation. Actually conversation is generous, our last point of contact was a stupid, impersonal facebook chat.

I saw you were online and thought I would say “Hi”. Silence from your end for what seemed ages. The suddenly, from out of nowhere, you wrote back. “I’m sorry, I just can’t’ believe your father ever wanted me, he never tried to find me”.

I wrote back that he would have loved you very much and I as your sister loved you very much.  “I don’t know that…..I hate you and I hate your father”.

The air sucked out of the room. I couldn’t breath. This wasn’t you at all. To this day I don’t fully understand it.

I tried calling you immediately, your phone was already switched off. You never returned those calls.

I tried writing you letters, but they remain unanswered.

The truth of the matter is this J, I don’t really what life was like for you growing up the way you did, and you don’t know what life was like for our brother and me.  I don’t know what you were told by grandparent or their reasons for telling you those poisonous things

The one person who could tell us what his real feelings for you were has been dead for 30 years and can’t answer us.

All I do know for sure is this, you, our brother and I are the children of Bobby who passed away at a very young 38 years of age. All three of Bobby’s children were robbed of a relationship with him.

There is nothing we can do to change that. All we have is this exact moment.

It is never too late to late to make a new start.  I hope you will understand that one day.

I love you J

Your little sister

Cathy x

Nurse Apologizes to Her Patients

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nurse To all my patients past, present, and future but especially the ones with altered mental status. I am sorry. I am sorry for losing my patience and showing my frustration. When your care should be all about you, at times I’ve made it about me, displacing my frustration and exasperation with your medical team onto you. I have been abrupt, a little abrasive, and sometimes a little rough. I need to be better than that and you deserve better especially since you are not in control of your disease process and in most instances completely unaware of it. Please accept my apology. I am truly sorry. I will do better.

Man Forgives Himself, Realizes He’s Perfect

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I’m sorry I’ve been so tough on you all these years, pushing you to be better and work harder.  You are perfect the way you are and are always giving your 110% best every day and should be commended.  I’m sorry I ever doubted who you are and what you bring to the world with your good heart and never ending talents. I’m sorry I judged you when the world was saying who you are is wrong, when I always knew that you were perfect, because God doesn’t make mistakes.  I’m sorry for judging you for judging others, I know you have nothing but love for yourself and every soul on this earth. You are awesome.  You are the best version of yourself.  What other people think about you is none of your business.  You are perfect just the way you are. I love you. 🙂

John

Mom Apologizes to Son with Down Syndrome

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downs Although these words will never meet your ears, I’m apologizing anyway.  You are and will always be protected by what I felt that day, in that moment. After all, I’m a mother. I’m your mother.  It’s my job to protect you.

Admitting something I’m deeply ashamed of isn’t easy. Even your father doesn’t know this.  How could I tell him? He didn’t share my feeling. He didn’t share my fear. I didn’t want to look less in his eyes or risk losing a piece of his heart. But, this isn’t about him. It’s about you and me.

During my pregnancy, nothing was out of the ordinary. Although it had been eight years since your sister was born, it was like riding a bike. The only difference:  I was deemed to be “high risk” because of my “advanced maternal age”.  At 40, I was five-years deep into the label.   I didn’t mind. I felt great.

Besides the standard “what sex is your baby” ultrasound, (I’m sorry my heart sank a bit when they told me you were a boy. Your sister has proven that raising one girl is more than I can handle.)  I was advised to get a genetic one due to my ancientness.

The initial genetic ultrasound showed you were perfectly healthy, but the physician mentioned your arms and legs seeming a bit short. He didn’t seem concerned. In fact, he spent most of the time joking around and speaking of his Eskimo roots.  After the exam he asked if we wanted an amniocentesis, which we quickly declined. We told him you were stuck with us no matter what. Dr. Alaska, as I’ll refer to him, wanted us to come back in about a month to recheck your growth.

The second exam wasn’t much different. Dr. Alaska made similar comments regarding your limbs and added that your head seemed a bit large.  Much to your father’s dismay, he meant the one above your neck. He asked if any of our relatives were disproportionate or had problems wearing hats or helmets. I couldn’t help but laugh and asked if there was a problem. Was he saying you were a little person or had another genetic disorder, like Down syndrome? He said “No,” and added that none of the findings were cause for concern. He said his kids had big heads, which didn’t please his wife during labor.  Then, he talked about working with little people. Basically, he knew little people, and we weren’t having one.  Despite his lack of concern, a final genetic ultrasound was scheduled two weeks before my due date.

When I arrived for my final ultrasound, I discovered Dr. Alaska had left the building, literally. He returned to Alaska to open his own office. Instead, I was left with Dr. Constipated, who was knowledgeable, and professional, but lacked warmth and personality.  It didn’t take him long to express concerns about your low birth weight, lack of fluid in the amniotic sac and by the way… it seemed you had genetic markers for Down syndrome. That news should’ve hit your father and I like a ton of bricks, but it didn’t. In fact, we dismissed it in our minds. After all, we saw Dr. Alaska. He was confident there were no concerns. He laughed and joked with us. He was someone we could hang out with. Why would we believe Dr. Constipated over him? Our answer: We wouldn’t! Anyway… His concerns led to me being induced the next day.  I was excited. I couldn’t wait to be a new mom holding her son, instead of a waddling pregnant new mom-to-be.

I’ll save us all the trouble of real timing the labor. Aside from your father announcing my contractions each time they appeared on the monitor (as if I didn’t know), it was pretty standard stuff.

Let me thank you now for your speedy arrival. It only took a minute or so, and you were out. Of course, your father couldn’t believe it. After the second push, I saw his eyes bug out, and I heard him ask the doctor if I should have a C-section. Your father had no clue.

You popped out and the doctor immediately took you to the side. You were surrounded by nurses cleaning you up and assisting in examining you. It felt like forever. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I began to cry and asked if you were okay. No one turned around to answer me. You father, who tried spying on the huddle a few times, said you were perfect. At that point, I was getting pretty upset that the one person, who did all the work, couldn’t see the finished product.

Finally, they gave you to your dad. Still crying, I asked if you had it (Down syndrome). He simply responded you were fine and put you in my arms. Here lies my shame. I looked at you. Without hesitation or a mental filter, I thought, “This isn’t my son,” and I wanted to give you back. My heart didn’t fill with immediate joy as anticipated. I just looked at you, analyzing the size of your head, the red patchy skin, the appearance of your eyes.  I felt scared and insecure about being your mom.

Then, they took you… again. I only held you for a minute, and they took you. It was in that moment that I snapped out it. You were gone for hours, and I was aching to have you back in my arms.

When I recall my initial reaction to seeing you, I want to smack myself. I want to yell and scream and call myself a horrible person who doesn’t deserve such a wonderful gift. I’ve tried to figure out why I felt that way, but I can only speculate. Was it your appearance? You looked like a malnourished alien because you needed some meat on your bones. Goodness! You were only five pounds nothing. Your eyes looked funny because they applied ointment, causing them to swell.  How can I judge someone who just came out of the depths of me after nine months? I’ve looked worse after a night of drinking.  Was it the anxiety of not being able to hold you immediately? OR… Was it hearing “Down syndrome” only the day before your birth. I don’t know the answer.

I need to apologize for not feeling overwhelming joy the second you were placed in my arms. There is no excuse. But one thing is certain; I loved you beyond reason, before ever laying eyes on you. I still do. You are perfectly spectacular. There is nothing I would change.

And… Let’s forgive Dr. Alaska for not knowing his stuff. You have Down syndrome, and your cute little head hasn’t met a hat it can’t wear.

Compassion is the Only Way

compassion

This Man Fell in Love with Another Man and Tried to Manipulate Him into Loving Him Back

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zino Hello JM:

It’s kind of liberating to get to apologize to you in this open and yet anonymous forum. I really need to say I’m sorry to you, and since you will also (likely) never read this, it’s….well…it’s perfect. The truth is that I loved you, was in love with you, from the first moment that I laid eyes on you and I will always be in love with you in my fashion until I take my last breath. You were the first person for which I ever had feelings. That looms huge in my mind and in my heart. You were the perfect embodiment of physical beauty, sweetness and charm…but mostly physical beauty. My goodness you were like the models you see in fashion magazines. I will never forget your blond wavy hair, you piercing blue eyes and your tall beautiful frame. I was completely enthralled. I was clearly and obviously not in touch with my feelings, my identity, at such a young age. That didn’t happen until I was in my 20s!

But, even if I had been with who I was, I lacked any degree of social skill needed to deal with those feelings in a mature and honest way. So, as you see, I was a quivering mass of insecurity and self-doubt. A bundle of complete confusion, self-delusion, anger and utter sadness. And fat. Did I mention fat? I was ugly back then, not just on the outside, but on the inside, as well, where it really counts. I befriended you, not because I actually wanted to be your friend, but purely because you were all that I could think about and I wanted to be close to you in every human way possible. In my delusional mind, friendship was just the start. But, we were never really friends, not like the way you thought we were. I faked it all in order to get closer to you. I used all the tools in my arsenal (if you could call what I had back then an arsenal) to make you mine even though I knew that it could never be between us. Not the way I wanted you anyway—it would be like putting a square peg in a round hole. Sure, you could try to force it, but it would never really fit and deep down in my heart, I knew that. The sad part is, I just didn’t care. In my warped and twisted psyche, I believed that if I made myself indispensible in your life, you would eventually weaken and come to the realization of how “perfect” I was, and how perfect I was for you. Of course, that was impossible/impractical/ludicrous. I secretly (and perhaps unconsciously) jeopardized your relationships with others, stood in the way of your true happiness and made sure that, in all areas that I could control, you remained dependent on me. I manipulated others (and you!) to steal your loyalty and, I hoped eventually, your love. I was a piece of shit. I know that now. I feel it now. I sort of knew it then, too, I just didn’t feel it. I felt nothing back then except my own desires/needs/wants. Everyone else was secondary. Everything else was irrelevant.

For that, I am truly sorry. If anything I did ever lead to more unhappiness for you, or deprived you of the love that you so richly deserved, or stood in the way of joy for you, I sincerely apologize.

What they say is true. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. So, JM, I forgive you for mirroring me and doing the same horrible things that I did to you right back at me. I hope you have lived, and will continue to live, a happy and satisfied life. I hope you do not sit there lo these 20+ years later lamenting the fact that you irreparably harmed me, too. Don’t. I’m fine; I’m so good now. And, I’m sure you are too. I will, however, always love you more than words can express and hearts can feel. I realized THAT later on in life. I was wrong for all the horrible things I did, yes, but I truly love(d) you. I know that now—too bad that was never enough to make me happy. Be well, my friend. Sending positive, life-affirming energy/thoughts/prayers your way.

Be well. Be happy.

Man Apologizes for Not Making His Woman Feel Beautiful

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Jenn,

You need to hear some things from me.  I was your man for so long…during our time together I never took the time or made the effort to talk with you about some of my behavior, behavior I knew in my heart was wrong.  I do want to say right here in the beginning that we are done, no mas, its over, finished… done… I get that. So this is not some attempt to stir your emotions in some way. Just me being completely honest with you about my behavior over the last 6 years we have known each other. Without you hearing me say these words we will aways have a block in these areas because you already know the truth of what I am about to say. And you need to know that I know it, and that I get it.

In a lot of ways I am an old fashioned guy, I believe that a man has a certain roll and obligations in a relationship. I failed to uphold my end of the bargain in so many ways with you, and for that I am deeply sorry. The first thing that comes to mind is, indifference, with my behavior I showed you indifference for a very long time. I believe that is the worst thing a man can do to his woman. I could go into a long self serving explanation trying to justify my behavior but that is not important. A man’s job is to make his woman feel beautiful, and to let her know through words and actions that she is the world to him; I failed you in this regard, I am beyond sorry for that Jenn. Just know it was never motivated by something you were lacking, or not doing, the shortcoming was mine. I betrayed my heart, I always loved you deeply, I still do.  I have only now started to understand my stated positions on family and children. What a person says they want and what they real want are not always the same thing. I explained away not wanting or needing a family with stories of my childhood, or just not wanting the responsibility. But the real truth of it is that I felt like a loser working at the club and I didn’t want my kids to be embarrassed by a father who could never quite make it. That was not a conversation I was willing or able to have with you. So I told you I could never give you what you want, which I am sure felt like, I just didn’t want to give you what you wanted … no the subtext was, your man is too big of a fucking loser to be able to do what is necessary and give you what you want. The saddest part is that accounting was for us, I was so excited to be able to work for you and for us and be a man by having a profession, and providing for our family. I could finally feel good about myself. But once again, I couldn’t tell you any of that until it was too late.

When you would ask if I was in love with you my heart was screaming.. say yes, but I couldn’t say that because then the next question would be, at least in your mind, why isn’t this guy closing the deal…. Because at that time I had nothing to contribute. I couldn’t feel like a man if I wasn’t doing my part, so I walked away… behavior I am also deeply sorry for delivering to your doorstep.

I was arrogant, I never imagined the day you would say no to us. And that was just stupid, you are a spectacular person, of course someone else would see your value and want to be with you. And a person can only be treated with indifference for so long before they believe that the other person is actually indifferent. My biggest regret… withholding intimacy, many times you wanted sex and to feel me, and my dumb ass withheld that from you because I was mad about something. How stupid was that, a woman should never be rejected by her man, it cuts too deep. I am so sorry for that Jenn, that behavior was absolute bullshit. Especially because those moments when we made love and I felt you were heaven to us, the rest of the world did not matter, the whole universe was you.

I never talked with you about how important you were in my life, especially after we  ‘broke up’.  The times you would come over to my place just to watch TV meant everything to me. I would look forward to putting my head on your stomach and feeling you, putting my arms around you, closing my eyes and inhaling you. But God forbid I tell you any of this, nope just let her think you don’t really give a shit that way you won’t have to confront any of your bullshit. What a jackass. I am also sorry for being hostile, or grumpy with the 2 of you at times. You never did anything to deserve it. It was just my fucked up way of creating some distance. I knew you loved me Jenn, why the fuck would you hang in there for so long if you didn’t. It wasn’t your job to tell me you were walking away, anyone would walk away, hell I would have walked away. It was my job to remove my head from my ass and beg your forgiveness. Of course that never happened until it was too late.

I don’t begrudge you love or a relationship with someone else who will treat you like you deserve. I don’t deserve another chance with you, in my heart I know that. This day is my creation, not yours, I want you to know that I fully understand that. You my love did nothing wrong, you were just a neglected woman yearning for love, I hope you find it baby, I really do.

You will always own a special place in my heart,

Will

 

Brenda Lee Said It Best, “I’m sorry.”

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Brenda Lee said it best.

I’m sorry, so sorry
That I was such a fool
I didn’t know
Love could be so cruel
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Uh-oh
Oh, yes

You tell me mistakes
Are part of being young
But that don’t right
The wrong that’s been done

[Spoken:]
(I’m sorry) I’m sorry
(So sorry) So sorry
Please accept my apology
But love is blind
And I was to blind to see
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Uh-oh
Oh, yes

You tell me mistakes
Are part of being young
But that don’t right
The wrong that’s been done
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Uh-oh
Oh, yes

I’m sorry, so sorry
Please accept my apology
But love was blind
And I was too blind to see
(Sorry)

Woman Apologizes to Foster Dog

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chester You were filthy. You were matted. Your teeth were a mess, jutted-out-under-bite, yellow, and neglected. There was dry poop crusted onto your back leg, something I mistakenly assumed might bother you. When I tried to clean it off, you tried to bite me with those ridiculous teeth of yours.

Chester, you were not my dog. I was nobody to you. Your somebody left you at a vet’s office months ago and never came back. I suppose they had been trying to do the kinder thing by not leaving you at the shelter, knowing that at eleven years old, your chances would be so low. Knowing that with a big tumor on your side, your chances would be so low. And really, chances for everyone there are so low.

The vet called me because he knows I foster dogs. Because he knows I’m insane like that. Because he knows that I care. And I did care, Chester; and I wanted to help you. But that Wednesday, I just could not. I could not because I was caught up in the ego and in the trivial and in the me me me. I justified to myself that I always care too much. I asked myself how good could I possibly be for you being spread so thin? On that day I was drowning from the inside out, my heart already bursting with pain for the suffering of animals. That ache lives right there, just exists and hangs, so thinly veiled that I’m almost never without it. On that day, it was furious and it overtook my insides, and it shredded me. I had nothing left for you.

So after only a few hours in my home, I took you back to the vet because my fingers feared your mouth. Because I didn’t choose to give you time to bloom. Because that Wednesday I wanted faster and easier. I vowed to come walk you. I vowed to come see you. I vowed to bring you home once more. But deep in my belly, even as I waved goodbye, I knew I should’ve give you a chance. I knew I was your last hope. I knew you would perish there, after months of calling a kennel your home, and it is not a home – the concrete floor and the constant barking and the coldness. I knew that it would be a tragedy to end a life you never got to live. Because how good could it have been before we met? Because what kind of a person leaves their pet behind?

Now I’m on the phone with the vet’s, put on hold. I’ve called for you, Chester. It’s me. I’m here. It’s been a few days, and I want to take you on a stroll so you can feel the sunshine on your skin. I want to try again. I told them I would try again. You deserve someone to try again. Yvette, the head vet tech, sounds small when she returns to the line, smaller than her usual mousy self. “They decided to euthanize him,” she says. And I think she’s confused you with some other shaggy old Terrier. Because there had been vows and there had been promises. But she is not confused. I’m just too late.

They didn’t call me, Chester. I swear I told them I’d be back. I even bought you mushy treats to eat out of my hands so you could meet my smell again and warm to me. But I had you here and the moment was then, and I let you down. I’ve yanked my car into a Trader Joe’s parking lot because I can’t drive through my streaming tears. I’m sitting in front of a dumpster, and I want to jump into it. I want to throw away this regret. I want that bin to be a time capsule that takes me back and lets me do it over, and lets me do it better. I want it to bring you back to life.

And I don’t know if anyone held you as they slid the needle into your vein. I don’t know if you felt affection escorting you out of this world. I don’t know if someone wept by your side. And I know you were old and sick and discarded, but somebody should have held you anyway. It should’ve been me. And now all I can think is: how did you go?

I get hundreds of emails every day, Chester, a constant punch of pleas for homeless pets like you. I see countless faces every weekend, each eager for belonging and safety and tenderness. But I can’t stop thinking about how many animals we never see at all. How many don’t get their stories shared. How many faces we don’t notice. And then – who knows they were ever even here? I want you to know that you were here. I learned of your story and it affected me. I heard your feet on my wooden floor and it made music. I pushed the coarse fur out of your eyes so you could know what friendship looks like.

But real friends don’t give up so fast, the way I did. Real friends care, the way I always thought I would. That one day I had you here, I wasn’t your friend and I didn’t care enough. I took a moment to harden my flooded-heart. I took a moment to create a divide between you and me. I took a moment to put your situation aside, murmured, “wait for me, I’ll try again when it’s more convenient with my schedule.” But it wasn’t up to you; you couldn’t wait. And it cost you your life. My uncaring moment cost you your life. And it cost me something, too: the price of living with guilt and with shame.

Don’t feel bad for me, Chester. I am not a martyr or a saint or an angel. Others are heroes; I am not. I have terrible road rage and I’m impatient and I don’t always wash my hands. But I care. I care deeply. I care deeply and yet I failed you. And I don’t think I like people anymore because people leave their animals in the dust. And where was your “owner” on that day? Huh? Where? It’s not that it’s a bother for me to hold this now. It’s not that it’s a drain. It’s just that it demands so much strength.

I don’t even know if I am good anymore, Chester. All I know is I can’t breathe. Caring takes so much time and so much energy, that I forget to breathe. And I want to shout, “Help me! No one can do it alone!” I want to insist, “You are somebody! It takes all of us to stop this!” I want to declare, “I am not an enabler, I am not a doormat. I must not absorb it all!” But I can’t tell anybody what to do. And at the end of the day, only the animals suffer for my rebellion. Like you.

Some may say, “he was just a dog.” But you were a life, and now you are not. And why should it be this way, this calloused way, why should some live and some die? Why do we get to decide when we are so flawed and so faulty? My husband says, “you can’t care that much every single time.” My mother says, “you’re doing the best you can, more than most.” My father says, “you cannot save them all.” But I can’t hear them.

All I hear is the rhythm of your paws on my floor. And sometimes it feels like too much. It always feels like too much. It feels like I am wearing a hundred cloaks. A thousand. A million. It is hot and humid, and I am lost in fabric. You may never see me again, it is so heavy. I am a hangar, I am a coat rack, I am here to carry cloth. The weight of all that fur. But the alternative is not to care and look where that led me. You are gone.

Brother Apologizes to Brother for Pinching Him in the Nuts

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Image

A nine-year-old Australian boy felt so bad about pinching his little brother’s testicles he felt compelled to write him a letter.

The sweet note, which has since gone viral upon being posted to Facebook, expresses the boy’s sincere regret at causing his brother pain.

Identified only as Zac, he is said to live in Adelaide.