apology:
An acknowledgment expressing regret or asking pardon for a fault or offense
Monday was a difficult day. More of a heavy heart day.
I felt sadness for my Hospice patient's death. Not really for him as much as his beloved wife. This was my first "death", in Hospice Volunteering. I knew it was going to happen. I am glad I was able to assist in the family as far as giving respice care. I tried not to become too emotionally attached (yes I hear you snickering those who know me and my ability to get emotionally attached to everyone & everything). But, still it was sad to see the widow, of 62 years of blissful marriage, say good bye to her beloved.
I am sorry for the family's sadness. For their loss.
I also attended a case conference for the student I work with at ISD. Of course I want what is best for this sweet child. I understand and appreciate all ISD has been able to do for this child. However, once again, I got myself emotionally attached and now, as it has been determined this child needs may be more than we can currently give, the child had to become a day student rather than residential, while we scramble to find ways to meet needs. At least until we are able to provide a more acceptable circumstances for the child. As I participated in this conference, I remembered to keep the child's best interest at heart, although I knew it may mean I may miss the child. It broke my heart...especially hearing the family stress the child will be so broken hearted.
I am sorry for this situation. I am sorry it wasn't able to work out as many had hoped.
Later once I got off work, I checked my emails and ran across a message from my Sister. We had both been to a high school reunion block party last Saturday. Hubby & I left before my Sis & BIL. Julie told me she ran into an old neighbor of ours. The Bully, that beat me up everyday for two years. Apparently, this has been heavy in his heart for some time. He expressed to my sister, how regretful he is about the abuse he put me through. He told her, how he would tease me, wrestle me to the ground, and beat me up.
This boy was my age. We were friends, neighbors... then one day he started beating me up. Don't sit there & think, awe, his way of saying he liked you. We were in the 6th and 7th grade. He would stand on the bus turn to face me and say with a grin, "Time for your daily beating". I would try to get away. I would beg the bus driver to make him stop (whom rarely did... usually if it got rough he would tell the boy to wait wait till we were off the bus). My parents would confront his Mom (Dad was never available). My parents then tried to teach me to defend myself. {Thanks Dad~ I still remember some of those moves}. This Bully was odd. I would get beat up, once a day & the rest of the day he'd act like we were friends. He'd talk to me, played kick ball together with the neighborhood, we had school classes together, he once rescued a puppy a man was drowning in the nearby creek, and brought it to me, asking my Dad if I could have it... One day I was to be disciplined in class, for excessive chattering (imagine that..me?) and I was going to get paddled.. My Bully stood up, told the teacher, he would take my whacks. She let him.. As he walked by me, he said, Im the only one allowed to hit you.
We all knew everyone's business in my little neighborhood. Everyone knew that he & his brothers got beatings from a drunk Dad. But, I still didn't deserve to get the beatings from him. And by the way... he only beat me up. No one else, Except maybe for those neighborhood boyhood scuffles. Few friends ever tried to make him stop. In fear they would become his target. My Sister, his brother, Bestie Mary, and a couple others would actually stop him...or he would avoid hitting me around them.
One day, he caught me cutting through a hidden shortcut to a friends house. I was terrified as he threw me down and rather than punches, he choice to start touching me inappropriately. This was different and I was scared. Some older boys heard me scream and came into action. They pulled him off, Picked me up, helped me straighten myself out and told me to run home. Im not sure exactly what they did to him, but he never touched me again. the beatings also stopped.
I could breathe again.
Back to Saturday evening, when he ran into Julie...he proceeded to take the next 10-15 minutes telling Sis to be sure to tell me that he is so very, very sorry for all the trouble he ever caused me. She assured him she'd let me know but he persistently kept on about how he had it hard with his dad being a drunk and beating him, and how the big kids on the block used to beat him up too, and how he just turned mean and took it out on me. She told me there were tears in his eyes and she know he wished he were talking to me instead of her.
I am glad he saw her instead of me.
I am glad he is apologetic.
Thirty years later... apology accepted. Thank you Jamie, I do appreciate it.
A weight has been lifted somehow from my heart. And I hope he can be at peace as well.
This apology came at a rather good time. I hadn't thought of the nightmare of getting beat for a while, however, it does come to mind sometimes. It is hard to understand why a scrawny girl would have to be the victim of such a thing. But, I am sure that it has helped mold me into the person I am.
The cheerleader of the Underdogs.
The nurturing Queen.
The Goddess of kindness
