The Apology

Awww.... Who couldn't forgive that little baby!!!

Mom was my fortress. I could turn to her for information, advice, comfort, you name it, I knew she had my back.  But there were times when she was more like a stone.  She had this thing about not apologizing, or admitting she was wrong.  Rather than admit it, she'd turn away and clam up - not saying a word for HOURS.  I often felt like being right wasn't always the best. Ever heard the old adage "if momma ain't happy - ain't nobody happy!"  that was my momma.  Usually I would break the ice between us.  Don't get me wrong, I loved her immensely, she was my rock, and certainly my confidant throughout my life - I miss her to this day.  She just had this way of never admitting that she could possibly be wrong.  I often wondered, "jeez, how hard is it to say I'm sorry, Mom?  Do you know the words?  They're pretty easy to recite...."  Note that I said I'd wonder!  Trust me, I never uttered that phrase to her!!  But... unfortunately I learned that trait from her.  And to this day I find it difficult to apologize.  But an apology from me has to be sincere; it must be heartfelt.

We all know that words can hurt immensely, ...what about actions?  Can actions cause extreme hurt?  And if they can, shouldn't the injured person expect an apology?  What happens to those we injure if we don't express remorse?  Does the hurt go away, or does it linger around festering... leaving the injured wondering why?... what happened.  Don't you think they might just want to hear "I'm sorry I hurt you"; or: "I'm sorry, I was wrong."

Sincere apologies are
 never unappreciated

So does an apology help?  Really??
Here's my answer: it doesn't hurt, that's for sure!   Maybe the healing process begins... maybe the injured person begins to look beyond the hurt and begins to move forward - really start living again.  Maybe it brings closure to the issue.  And maybe - just maybe - a contrite apology brings the two together to heal the rift between them.  It literally doesn't hurt to say those words, "I'm sorry... I never meant to hurt you."

But there's more than just saying "I'm sorry;" complete it with "will you forgive me?"  Anyone can say 'sorry' for this, 'sorry' for that; but a true repentant soul asks for forgiveness.  That request, then, puts the ball back into the injured person's court.  Of course he/she must be willing to accept the apology - holding back nothing - and forgiving. Then!!! true healing begins.

Forgiveness, however, means never throwing the hurt back in the other person's face again, no matter how tough it might be.  Don't keep holding on to that hurt like a badge of - what- I don't know, because in the end it only keeps hurting you.  Furthermore, the roles, then, are reversed and you become the injurer.  It's not fair at all to the person who comes - hat in hand (so to speak) - to apologize. Forgiveness takes real effort, and is a sure sign of strength and maturity. Be a bigger and better person and receive what you wanted, and move on.  You are only hurting yourself, and any other apology that might be offered will likely be less than heartfelt,  and more forced and/or contrived.

Remember, life is way too precious to allow hurt to fester ugliness.  I know I'm full of old adages, but heres a true statement: "To err is human, to forgive, divine."  I've learned to forgive. Bet momma would be proud!

My Un-Known Hero!

Heroes pass in and out of our lives whether we know it or not.  Often we don't acknowledge their acts that create that hero status in our heads.  We may thank them - and I certainly hope we at least do that!!!, but how often do we feel as though we haven't said - much less done, enough?

In March during my last semester in college I managed to destroy my left knee during a ski

Ok, I didn't exactly ski like this.  But this is rather cool!

trip.  It required surgery, and recovery with therapy would be at least six weeks.  However, the last thing I wanted to do was withdraw from school my last semester.  My orthopedic surgeon said we could postpone the surgery so long as I planned on having it soon after graduation.  Being the accident happened in early March and graduation was in May, I had to hobble around on crutches for eight weeks.  

It's amazing how you can experience people's mettle when it comes to hobbling on crutches.  I had one student dash out in front of me and accidentally kick my left crutch from me. In order to keep from falling I caught myself on my bad leg.  Ughh, the pain was shot up my knee just about causing me to pass out.  Did he turn to see if I was ok?  Nope, but others grabbed me to keep me from falling, and just stood me up until I seemed to get my barings back.  Their kindness and concern really meant a lot to me.

But, and this is a big but!! - there was this one young man that I will never forget.  I wish I could say I knew his name, but alas I cannot.  All I can call him is my dark-haired hero.  What he did was about the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.

Superman is missing the umbrella!!!

During that last semester I had one late afternoon class.  One particular rainy evening after class I hobbled outside, stopping under a overhang on the building just watching the rain pour from the heavens.  Obviously my hands were busy, and well, quite frankly, I didn't have a handy dandy umbrella that hooks onto crutches. I stood under that overhang for about ten minutes just hoping the rain would ease some.  I was parked across the street, but it may as well have been on the other side of campus.  I was destined to get  soaked just trying to make it to my car.  

As I stood there watching the rain, this young man exited the building.  He wasn't in any of my classes, I didn't know him from Adam.  But he looked at the rain and then at me. "Just waiting for the rain to stop," I said, answering his silent question.  

"Where's you car? he asked me.  

"Across the street."

"Oh." was his response.  He put his ball cap on his head and headed out into the rain toward his vehicle.  

I didn't expect much more than that.  Just making friendly conversation with the injured student. Yet, what happened next completely took me by surprise.  After he reached his vehichle, he thew his books into the front seat, closed the door, opened the back door, pulled out and umbrella and ran back toward me, unwrapping the strap around it.

"Ready?" he asked me as he opened his umbrella above my head.

"Really? Thank you so much, thank you so so much!"  I said.  He took my school bag from my shoulder and began walking behind me to my car, all the while covering me with his umbrella.  Bless his heart, it was so small, it only covered me - all the while he was getting wet, but he didn't seem to mind.  He stood behind me keeping the umbrella over me as I unlocked my car, and crawled into my seat.  He put my book bag behind me in the back seat, took my crutches and put them in behind me too, but within my reach.  I thanked him again as he closed my door, and soon he dashed off to his own vehicle, started it, and drove off.

I sat in my car for a minute just in awe of what had happened.  In the ten minutes that I stood under the overhang, several students exited the same building, pulled out their umbrellas and mosied on their way.  I can't blame them, I really didn't expect anything from them.  The former guy in my blog, quite frankly, exhibited what I had come to expect from many of those students.  They were younger, and displayed attitudes of "step aside, I'm coming through."  But the attitude of the dark-haired young man with the umbrella left me humbled -  feeling like I had many of them figured so wrong.  Yes, the one guy caused me to lose my barings when he kicked my crutch out from under me, but others around me held me up - keeping me from falling.  On the rainy afternoon, many saw me stand under the overhang, but only one returned to help me.  Would I do the same?  I learned from my dark-haired hero.

Indeed I graduated in May.  And for one week I was actually off the crutches and was able to walk across the stage to receive my diploma; but the next week

Always a Horned Frog!!  Graduation, 1998!

surgery was indeed scheduled, and boy am I glad I waited.  It was most painful!!

I never saw that young man again, and highly highly doubt he reads my blog. But he became my hero that particular day.  Not surprisingly, to this day I think fondly of a certain rainy day in April, during my last semester at TCU - just because of what this young man did.  To me it was a most selfless act; he didn't know me, I didn't know him. But he treated me like one would expect a gentleman would treat a lady (just shy of throwing a coat across a water puddle).  I had no doubt that young man was raised well, and with that kind of training, it gives me pause to say he was my un-known dark haired hero!