notquiteold

Nancy Roman

Apologies

I don’t have a lot of revenge fantasies.

It’s not that I’m such a goody-two-shoes. Well, okay, I’m a little bit of a goody-two-shoes. I believe in the power of Being Nice.

That’s how I was brought up. “Be Nice” – said absolutely everyone in my family.

And, as a corollary –  “Don’t wish bad things to happen to anyone.”

Because everyone you know – including those who are mean to you – is someone’s kid. Or parent, or loved one. And if something bad did happen, then you would also be hurting people who don’t deserve it.

Which is why I don’t have much in the way of revenge fantasies.

What I have, though, are apology fantasies.

How I would love the people who have wronged me to see that they have wronged me. And to come and say they are sorry.

Here are the people I would like to hear from:

– The fifth grade teacher who bullied me into tears on a daily basis

– The boy who made fun of me in front of the whole class in 7th grade and introduced me to the feeling of public humiliation

– The friend who fixed me up with a nice guy, and then decided she would take him for herself

– The man I fell madly in love with who forgot to tell me he was married

– The boss who decided that if she made my life miserable enough, I would quit; who forced me into counseling for what she called my “psychological issues” but which the therapist described as symptoms of severe workplace abuse

– The boss for whom I had worked my ass off for twelve years, who saw the above happening and never lifted a finger to help

– The man who I forgave and forgave, thinking he would eventually see how sweet and wonderful I was, who told me finally that I was just not pretty enough for him

– And there there was…

Um, hmm,

I just can’t think of anyone else.

That’s it I guess.

Wait a minute.

There are over 7 billion people in the world. I am 65 years old.

And I can only think of 7 people out of 7 billion over the course of 65 years who owe me an apology?

Well, for crying out loud. That’s about as insignificant as you can get.

All my enemies can fit around my dining room table, and there would still be room for me.

So forget about it. Forget about apologies.

Let’s have dinner instead.

Pass the potatoes.

diningroom

31 Comments

  1. Hmmm…I like mashed potatoes! Isn’t it funny how some stuff sticks with you forever. Like my first boss who said I was steno pool material which was intended to be negative (those folks worked their ass off). Yeah, I could do with an apology from her but I’m not sharing my mashed potatoes.

    Liked by 2 people

    • It IS funny how it sticks with you… even when you KNOW that in retrospect it is trivial.

      Liked by 1 person

    • Sally Habib

      I too like you have had not many apologies owed …
      But the one I really wanted was from an
      abusive husband that I never got …
      But I forgave him when he got lung cancer
      anyway cuz I didn’t
      want to let him spend anymore time in
      my head … Pass the potatoes

      Like

  2. You are pretty darn lucky then, aren’t you? Me too! But some things we just cannot forget either. Love mashed potatoes! Cheers! (I was taught to be nice too!)

    Liked by 1 person

    • Yeah, not exactly fretting about such small matters – though they didn’t seem small back then.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. You’d be too nice to let them know how mean they were to you at that dinner, anyway, so no need.

    I’m actually tired of apologies from public people who apologize when they’re caught saying exactly what they mean …

    Sorry. I always revert to politics.

    Like

    • I like that you always revert to politics. I have promised myself I would not – but I love reading from someone else (who agrees with me).

      Liked by 1 person

  4. My list is probably pretty short too (and similar)!

    Like

    • They leave big hurts at the time, but in retrospect, they are so few and ultimately so unimportant to our lives.

      Like

      • You’re quite right. I think the key is letting the hurts go from our hearts. Once that’s done they don’t have power over us anymore. I’m still working on some of the more recent (and very very minor) ones. xo

        Like

  5. Don’t want to waste time thinking of the few I’d like to apologise. But I’ll come to your dinner. Just call me

    Like

    • Yeah, in truth, I’d rather have dinner with my friends than my enemies. But i realize now that I could sit through dinner with enemies and shrug it off.

      Like

  6. Yes if more people would just be nice, then life for more people would indeed be nice, I am nice, well I try to be nice, yesterday my daughter Kathy said something not nice about someone and then turned to her daughter Summer who is only three and said “you didn’t hear that, it is not nice to say such things about people” to me she said you can say it just not to them as that wouldn’t be nice.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I have a hard time speaking un-nice things about anyone… but boy, once in a while, I let go! Never to their faces though – it would probably feel great but I am much too nice – or too cowardly (which is probably truer.)

      Like

  7. After a while revenge loses it’s intensity. I agree that a good way to shake it all off is just to pass the potatoes. Excellent idea!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Yup. Anne Lamott said something like “Holding a grudge is like eating rat poison and then waiting for the rat to die.”

      Liked by 1 person

  8. Putting things in perspective — I like it! And if you’ll serve cheesecake for dessert, I’ll apologize profusely for all 7 of those bozos.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Cheesecake makes everything better.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Mmmmm, lol, yes it does! In all seriousness, I am sorry to read of those past troubles that left a terrible mark. Digs and snubs and humiliation and teachers not worth their weight in gold happen to most of us –if not all. We take on layers to protect ourselves, and with that, someone else loses out on us to some degree.

        Like

  9. I can think of a thousand people I feel like apologizing to, but that’s a problem of mine. I enjoy your light-heartedness.

    Like

    • Oh, yes… that’s another blog entirely. But the list would mostly be made up of my husband.

      Like

  10. That’s a terrific way of looking at it!

    Liked by 2 people

    • I know there are probably many people who suffer terrible abuse. But I certainly don’t have much to be angry about.

      Liked by 1 person

  11. This article is so spot on. Those of us who have been in that situation of having a boss or co worker make our lives a living hell trying to push us out of a job. I can tell you the best revenge is persevering and seeing that person leave the company. In my case after 17 years. The forgiveness part takes time. If I’m honest I’m not there yet. Thank your for this post it was very cathartic for me personally.

    Like

    • Thanks. And yes, my motto had always been, “Just outlast the bastard.” And that usually worked. Either they left or moved up and out of my hair. But the people mentioned above got the better of me. But I survived it.

      Liked by 1 person

  12. Hmm…I don’t know about dinner and actually facing my foes, but I’m with you on the apologies. I feel like I want a public apology back in the place it happened, in front of the people it happened in front of. I don’t wish them dead or harmed, just natural karma would work for me.

    Like

    • Oh, that would be so nice. I’d love a public apology back where it happened. With the audience. Sometimes the bad guys win, but the good guys survive. And keep being the good guys. At least my conscience is clear.

      Like

  13. Frame of reference and perspective – wish all would understand as well as you do. Yes, let’s have smiles and laughs with those potatoes

    Liked by 1 person

    • I decided long ago that people who wronged me would not have the power to make me unhappy forever. Their power has an expiration date, and they have reached it.

      Liked by 2 people

  14. I just love this post, Doll. I am the same age as you (well, 64, but who’s counting?) And I decided long ago that holding grudges hurts me more than it hurts the ‘grudgees’. In fact, most of the time, the people who wronged me don’t exist anymore or, if they do, have long forgotten their wrongs. Remembering the good things is much more productive. Revenge is not sweet — but (sweet) potatoes sure are!

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Great perspective! I don’t wish too many times bad things to happen to others. If someone picks on me or someone in my family, I make a comment about they must have had a terrible childhood. I do think apologies are important!

    Like

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