I made a mistake

I made a mistake
18 February 2013



 

We've all had embarrassing moments.  It's just one of those things.  If you live a life worth living and you skate a bit close to the edge, chances are you get burnt every now and then.
 

I've had a few.  But one in particular stands out.  And stands out by far.  I don't want to go into too much detail.  But suffice it to say, that it involved my father and something rather cringe worthy.  The kind of thing no daughter would ever want to share with her father.
 

 

My mom phoned to tell me what happened and she laughed like a drain.  Apparently my dad was feeling even more embarrassed than me.  I was sure it was not possible at all.  No indeed she assured me he was.  And upon hearing her woeful tale, I actually believed her.  Or at least the fact that we were both equally embarrassed at least.

 

 

I felt terribly awkward about seeing my Dad again after it happened.  I fear that had it not been for the fact that my dad had to undergo surgery at the time, I might never have seen him again, so big was my shame.  As it was there were complications when they tried to remove his tumour and blessedly our first meeting after "the incident" saw him in a morphine induced stupor.
 

Now I'm sure you'll agree with me that that would be a very difficult embarrassing moment to top.  Hardly conceivable actually. Yet my sister fared even worse.
 

And only once I've received written confirmation decreeing I've got the go-ahead will I share.  But just to give you a little taster, it involved her brand new boyfriend (now husband).  Enough said.
 

A blog is a very open and public forum.  And sometimes it is easy to forget.  I sit in my little study in front of my computer.  Typing away.  It is a solitary experience.  I write with humour and honesty.  I always strive to be respectful towards others.  Nobody edits me and no one reads a story before I post or publish it.  I'm not sure that many would care.

 

 

However there have been the odd exception.  I wrote a story about my Mom's rape and asked her if it would be okay if I published it, but that she could read it first.  I understood that the subject was painful for her and if she never wanted it to see the light of day, I would just delete it.  No questions asked.  For me it had been healing to write it and a way of processing it and working through it.  She declined the offer to proof read it first.  And said instead that she trusted me implicitly and that I'd do it just right.  A brave thing of her to do.  In fact her faith took my breath away.

 

 

The story about my brother overcoming his addiction to alcohol, was also given to him first to read it through.  I wrote about something very personal after all.  Directly about him.  Once again, if he did not approve, I would just delete it.  Apparently he was so moved by my words, that he cried and felt so very proud of the way I told his story and how far he had come.  The story about my friend's mom with the Dementia, I gave to her first and she was delighted with it too.  The Three Little Pigs story (naturally it is purely fiction) was shared with Pork Chop's mom and she also heartily approved, even giving me a few suggestions along the way.

 

 

So for the most part, I feel like I've played by the unwritten rules.  But then I made a mistake.  I hurt someone I care about deeply.  Even though I didn't mention the person's name, I should have guessed that this person would read the blog and join the dots.  How foolish could I be???  Apparently very.
 

I've apologised humbly and with great sincerity.  I was unintentionally cruel and hurtful.  I made a mistake.  I am filled with regret and remorse and I am truly sorry if I caused any pain, because I know that I did.  I humiliated and embarrassed someone by my foolishness and I am so terribly, terribly sorry.  I will have to live with this hurt that I caused.  And I am a sensitive person.  A person that will go I to great lengths to spare others pain.  I have learnt a lot at someone else's expense.  I feel bruised and disappointed in myself.  And somehow, this makes the whole undeveloped film thing pale in comparison.  My latest worst moment.  I know with conviction that there will be many more.

 

 

At the same time, I've had the good fortune that my apology has been accepted.  And for that I am deeply grateful.
 

But one thing I know to be true.  Accepting an apology, is not the same as forgiveness.  Forgiveness is a gift, which I’ll gladly accept if offered.  But forgiveness aside, the hurt I caused will linger for long.

 

 

I'm sorry.