I can’t remember the conversation beforehand but I do
remember that I was in trouble—lots of trouble. I had said something
insensitive and was not doing well formulating an apology.
My wife and I laid side by side, sharing the same darkness
and the same doona, in silence. I knew it was my turn to say something.
Something helpful.
What should I say?
Thoughts were racing through my mind. I remember feeling
very disappointed in myself for mistreating my wife. I felt like a bad person.
My words so far had been very hurtful. As had my
attempt at an apology thus far. I hadn’t meant to say what I had said and I was
sorry. But I couldn’t figure out the best way to say that.
Finally I decided to simply say, “I’m sorry.” But as I spoke,
I thought, sometimes I am such a useless person. So, my planned words
and my unplanned thought combined to fill the dark void with, “I’m a sorry
person.”
Great, I thought, I’ve done it again. That didn’t
help at all.
Then I heard something unexpected from the other side of the
bed. It started as a sniffle, turned into a giggle and then became convulsions
of laughter. When my wife was finally able to catch her breath, she said, “Truer
words have never been spoken.” Then she went back into hysterics and I joined
her in tears of laughter and relief.
There is something very healing about a good laugh. It has
the power to turn bitter tears into sweet ones. The tissue box was still being
used but for a very different reason.
My wife and I now have a new technique for disarming
potential setbacks in our relationship that involve me blurting and her
hurting. Upon hearing me say something bordering on insensitive she says, “You
know, you’re a sorry person.” And I gingerly step across my freshly dropped
eggshells, wrap my arms around her and say, “Yes. More sorry than I can say. I
love you.”
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For more parenting pondering,
see the "Parently" section of this blog.
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