I’m Sorry

by Joy Loverde

I’m sorry. I’m sorry I disappointed you. I’m sorry I said that. I’m sorry for making you angry. I’m sorry for being late. I’m sorry I forgot. I’m sorry.

I can remember as a child my mother saying to me (more times than I’d like to admit),”Tell your sister you’re sorry.” “Tell your brother you’re sorry. “  The worse of times when my father would take me by the collar and walk me over to my mother and say, “Tell your mother you’re sorry.”  Not that I was that horrible as a child, it was just that in our house, if you did something wrong you had better say, “I’m sorry.”

For some unknown reason, being raised as a child to apologize at appropriate times did not translate into my early adulthood. And I have no idea why that was the case. I can recall situations when I was wrong, dead wrong, and yet I could not and would not say that I was sorry.  Instead, “It’s not my fault” became my mantra. For years I held on to blaming this, that and the other thing as a way to negotiate my way through relationships. And I paid a price for choosing the coward’s way out.

Saying “I’m sorry” takes courage, and I was afraid of what would happen once I let the cat out of the bag. Fear of what the consequence would be – real or not – once I admitted my short-comings.  There’s a song by Sting that reminds me of my journey called, “Fragile.”

“Fragile”

If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow’s rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime’s argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are

Today, I say “I’m sorry” readily and sincerely. I am unafraid of the consequences or what people might think of me because now I am fully aware of how fragile we all are.