For each of the past two years, I have written a list of reparations on New Year’s Eve rather than make a list of promises I don’t know that I can keep for the coming year.
2015 ends in just under two hours. I can’t say I’m sad to see it go. There have been a long list of challenges this year. I’ve talked about some of them in past blog posts. I have kept many of them to myself. Nonetheless, there are apologies to hand out.
To my boys – There are times when you drive me crazy. Times when I run out of patience very quickly. Times when I allow myself to get frustrated enough to yell at you. There are times when I don’t have the answers you seek, and times when I know you are tired of hearing the ones I have to give you time and again. There are things you will learn about yourselves and your backgrounds that won’t be easy to hear. I suppose part of me is glad that you’re not yet at the age where you’re learning it. I’m sorry that I cannot always provide you with the magic salve to heal your wound. I am never sorry for being your parent. I love you both so very, very much.
To my dad – Where do I begin? In 2015 I lost you. Unlike 20 years ago when I cut you out of my life, before we made our own reparations, this time it was permanent. There’s no going back. No more conversations shared, no more laughs, no more tears except mine when I find myself still missing you terribly. I’m sorry for ever doubting your love for me. I’m sorry for doubting mine for you. I’m sorry that it took me so long to appreciate the man you were, and for not having more time to enjoy that man. I’m sorry that I could not be there to hold your hand as you passed. Had I been able to, I would have done so gladly, if it would have made your passing easier on you. I’ve been told there is a chemical that our body releases just before we die that produces a euphoric state in us. I hope that’s true and that your death was peaceful for you. It’s terrible for me.
To my mom – The more you slip away from me as you dance with dementia, the closer I get to something like peace and reconciliation with the past. You asked me not long ago if you ever did anything that made me doubt your love for me. What a loaded question. I’m sorry that I lied, Mom, and told you that you never did. I didn’t do it to hurt you, and I know I should be honest and get it out of my system and let you have your feelings about it. But I just couldn’t. I’m sorry that I have had to be less than forthcoming with you in trying to get you to transition out of your home and into assisted living. I’m sorry that it came to that for you. I am glad that you put the faith in me that you did years ago to make decisions for you now and take care of you now as you cannot take care of yourself. I promised you then and promise you now, I will do everything in my power to make this stage of your life as easy as possible. That’s why I told you the ‘lie’ that I did. If amidst all the things you’ve lost in life I can leave you with the peace of mind that the lie I told you has brought you, then I can live with it. I’ll make my peace with it later on.
To my husband – Sorry seems to be the hardest word sometimes. It carries undertones of weakness for me. I struggle with that.
To my friends – I sometimes feel like I never do enough for or with you. I always regret it. I never stop caring about you.
To my loved ones everywhere, I leave you these parting sentiments in bidding adieu to the year 2015. In the words of my blog muse, Winnie The Pooh – Promise me you’ll always remember: You’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.