TASK #45: MAN UP
“A clear conscience is often a sign of a bad memory.” Unknown
It was my birthday this past weekend. I’ve always found birthdays to be confusing. You’re happy, ’cause it’s “your day”, but you are sad because you’re another year older. You’re happy, because you made it another year, but you’re sad because, if you’re not careful, you’ll start thinking about what you HAVEN’T done since your last birthday, and regret will grab your heart and squeeze.
After I left for college I started ignoring my mother… Then one morning the phone rang. It was my brother. He told me that my mom had been hit by a car. All of a sudden it was too late to make up for lost time.
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I got up on my birthday and no one was home. The wife must have gone to work early and the kids took off for school. I checked my phone: no messages or texts. No cards. Not even a scribbled “Happy Birthday” on a napkin. Just silence. My wife didn’t even make coffee. We were out of eggs, and milk, which meant I couldn’t even make a bowl of Cap’n Crunch.
I felt like the girl in “16 Candle”. No one remembered my birthday! I was going to take the day off from work but why bother? Just to sit at home by myself, with no Cap’n Crunch?
I grumbled all the way to the office, and sat at my desk, bitter and pissed. One of my co-workers, a guy I’ve worked with for 15 years, with whom I’ve drank and caroused, walked over. I smiled, ready for my “happy birthday, shithead!” He stopped and looked at me and said, “My dog Sniff came into my room this morning and took a shit on the floor. What do you think about that?” He looked at me, waiting for me to reply. Finally I said, “I once saw you take a shit off the Armory Street bridge.” He thought about that for a minute, then said “true that.” Then he walked away.
I put my head on my desk and wished I was dead. At lunch I took my lunch bag, which that day held one sandwich made up of leftover meatballs, two Oreo’s, an apple and a diet coke, and I sat in my car.
Which was a mistake, because I got to feeling sorry for myself, and my REGRETS slunk out of the black zones in my psyche in which I had buried them in and invaded my brain.
My old man used to say, “You only regret what you DON’T do in life”; he meant that you would regret opportunities that you failed to act on because you were too timid, or stupid, to try. And he was right. I started thinking about my mother.
After I left for college I started ignoring my mother. What do I need a mom for? When I came home I barely spent any time at home. I didn’t want to talk to her or hang around with her. I sorta put her in storage, like my toys and my high school letterman’s jacket. I figured that I’d make it up to her down the road. The years, of course, flew by. Then one morning the phone rang. It was my brother. He told me that my mom had been hit by a car. All of a sudden it was too late to make up for lost time.
When I lay in bed that night I thought to myself: I can’t say I’m sorry to my mom. I lost that window. But there are a lot of people still in my life that I owe apologies to, and I’m going to take care of that business.
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I apologized to her at her grave site, but you talk about too little, too late…
Anyway, I sat in my car and rummaged through my regrets.
When I got home that night my wife was waiting at the door with a smile, a card, and a bottle of cheap champagne. The kids had gifts and we sat around the table and talked. I had a fine birthday after all.
When I lay in bed that night I thought to myself: I can’t say I’m sorry to my mom. I lost that window. But there are a lot of people still in my life that I owe apologies to, and I’m going to take care of that business.
TASK
List your list of what you regret you have done to another person. Pick out one–one that involved someone who is still in your life. Send that person some flowers or a card that says you’re sorry. You can do it anonymously or not. Up to you.
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