Category: Historical

Apologies, real and imagined

There’s been a lot of apologies in the news lately. Paraphrasing a few:

“I’m sorry if I offended anyone out there with my comments on skin colors.”

“I’m sorry I upset you with my joke about monkey babies.”

“I didn’t mean to outrage the hysterical womans libbers with my views on sammich making.”

There is making an apology, and then there’s a sneering apology, which means something along the lines of: I stand by what I said, but here is an apology for all the snowflakes out there.

The above (and the real-life comments they represent) weren’t actual apologies. Here’s an example of an apology.

“I’m sorry. What I said and did was wrong.” Taking responsibility for your words and actions. No excuses (I was joking), no deflection (you misunderstood me) and no blaming other people.

In the above examples, the ‘hysterical women’ are in the wrong for taking offense. Those who ‘can’t take a joke’ are in the wrong for ‘misunderstanding’ his humor. His prejudice is just the way it really is, if you don’t speak Political Correct.

When you read or hear someone making an apology, really listen. Are they just saying I’m Sorry, or do they qualify the statement with the REAL people who should apologize?

My partner once said this; (all tears and hand wringing) Forgive me for anything you’ve imagined I’ve done.

It took me a minute to parse that statement. I think it was the first time I actually thought about what he was saying, word for word. It was his use of the word  ‘imagined’ that caught my attention.

By saying imagined, he was saying he’d never done anything that needed forgiving for. After all, you don’t need to forgive something that never actually happened. I also noticed there was no ‘please’ said. This wasn’t a petition, a request, for forgiveness. It was a demand: “forgive me”.

I said: No.

He was truly shocked. “But you have to. Family always forgives.” And for him, that is true. His family always forgives him. They forgive him before he does anything, good or bad. He went through hell when he got sick. Every single day, he could have died. They forgave him everything, every breathing moment. He expects that. He doesn’t think about what he does or says, because all his has to do is say ‘forgive me’, and it’s done. He’s washed of all sins.

He has never taken responsibility for his words or deeds. He is never held accountable for his actions.

I said: “Tell me something you’ve said or done that you know is wrong, and I will forgive you.”

It was three years before he figured one out. I forgave him.

 

 

Egypt & The Impossible Task

This must have been about 10 years ago, now. I had a bucket list which included going to Egypt and seeing the pyramids and Valley of the Kings, you know, the usual. Partner was aware of this. One day, he says, “I’ll take you to Egypt. But only if you learn hieroglyphics, because what’s the point of going somewhere if you can’t read the language?”

This was actually kind of a silly thing to say, ’cause people do it all the time. On the other hand, I’d always been interested in hieroglyphics, and hey, trip to Egypt. So I agreed, I’d learn hieroglyphics and he’d take me to Egypt.

I got a good book and started teaching myself hieroglyphics. I actually found it kind of easy. After a couple of weeks of daily study, I was starting to be able to ‘free read’. Without needing to flip constantly to the cheat sheet. I showed him how well I was doing.

What! He says. You can’t do that! You can’t read hieroglyphics! I can’t read them and if I can’t read them, you can’t.

I’m dyslexic, I said. They’re just pictographs. It’s easier to read than English, once I know what it stands for.

No. He thinks about it for a micro-second, then continued, I’ll take you to Egypt if you stop smoking.

In that moment I knew he’d given me an ‘impossible task’. Not his fault we didn’t go, right, as I was just too stupid to learn hieroglyphics. I put my pencil away, put the book on my bookshelf, got online and did something else. I didn’t say a word. I didn’t open the book again. As far as I was concerned, the subject and goal were over, dead. He knew I wouldn’t give up smoking for this. Especially since it was pretty obvious if I did give up smoking, he’d just come up with something else.

I think I was upset a couple of days. I remember I was mad about it for a long time. Just the fact he used a dream of mine to play games with me. And it was a building block of our marriage problems. It was a stone against him that never moved. I never spoke of it, but it was always there, influencing how I perceived his motivations.

A couple of years (!) later, he comes up to me and says: You can stop yelling at me about Egypt.

I kind of snort and say, I never said a word.

I know, he says, but in my head, you’ve yelled at me every day. So I’ll take you to Egypt. Except you’ll need to get better, health-wise. 

And there it was, the third impossible task. COPD doesn’t ever get better. You can stop getting worse, I’m told, but you never get better. So I patted him on the knee and agreed. When I get better. Knowing it would never happen.

I’m thinking of this because I’ve been thinking of picking up hieroglyphics again. It was fun, I did enjoy it, and I shouldn’t let his being an asshat stop me from doing something I like. And I just this second realized, it will probably remind him of his dick move every time he sees me with the book. And that will just be a side order of sweet.

Hey, I never said I was a saint. Or even very nice, although I used to be. I got over that.