So The Madre called today. I haven't spoken to her since our little tiff last week on the phone. We used to argue all the time and go without speaking for weeks or even months. It's been a while, however, and we've both grown up a great deal. Well, she has anyway.
I should have been a big thirty-year-old and called to apolgoize but I didn't because I have this issue with being vulnerable. I'm always afraid that if I put myself out there - bare my soul to the person I upset - that they're going to take said soul, throw it down, smash a rock over it's soul-like head and shove it up one of my crevices, more wounded than ever. There's nothing worse than saying 'I'm sorry' and having someone reply with 'Well you should be, you terrible excuse for a human being.'
(I haven't ever had someone say I'm a terrible excuse for a human being, but I wouldn't be surprised if it's been said out of earshot along with other choice words.)
So instead I avoid the person for as long as possible like the chicken I am. I wait until they get sick of not having the amazing presence of The Maven in their lives and get in touch with me.
Much to my surprise, this doesn't always happen. There are some people who, shockingly enough, manage quite well without me around. In fact, some would say they even... thrive. Thrive! Without me! Suspicious, but possibly true.
I guess.
Sometimes I think about getting in touch with these people to extend the olive branch, so to speak. The holidays and that whole 'good will toward man' crap really gets to me. But I'm afraid that if they don't take the branch I might poke it in their eye. How dare you refuse my tasty olives? Can't you see I grow the best damn olives around? You won't find better from those other trees. You MISS my olives, even if you can't admit it.
Well, at least my mommy missed my olives (edited to say how wrong that sounds now that I've re-read it)That and she knew I'd feel terrible if something happened to her today and I hadn't spoken to her because I'm, well, me. She's having ten - that's right 10 - transfusions over the next couple of weeks, the first being this afternoon. On top of all her other health issues, she's severely anemic and requires some heavy iron doses, hence the transfusions.
I'm far less of a person than my mother, who picks up the phone when she's that sick to make amends while I, who's only sickness lies somewhere between my neck and my hairline, doesn't take that first step.
So today I learned a lesson: Don't hesitate. Pick up the phone. Email. Send out a Christmas card. Take the plunge and fix that broken relationship before it's too late.
And if the person doesn't take the olive branch, don't dispair. Just make sure you sharpened the tip beforehand so you can jab them in the palm. Then you can both feel crappy, but at least you apologized.
I've never said I don't need therapy. But my heart is in the right place.
I should have been a big thirty-year-old and called to apolgoize but I didn't because I have this issue with being vulnerable. I'm always afraid that if I put myself out there - bare my soul to the person I upset - that they're going to take said soul, throw it down, smash a rock over it's soul-like head and shove it up one of my crevices, more wounded than ever. There's nothing worse than saying 'I'm sorry' and having someone reply with 'Well you should be, you terrible excuse for a human being.'
(I haven't ever had someone say I'm a terrible excuse for a human being, but I wouldn't be surprised if it's been said out of earshot along with other choice words.)
So instead I avoid the person for as long as possible like the chicken I am. I wait until they get sick of not having the amazing presence of The Maven in their lives and get in touch with me.
Much to my surprise, this doesn't always happen. There are some people who, shockingly enough, manage quite well without me around. In fact, some would say they even... thrive. Thrive! Without me! Suspicious, but possibly true.
I guess.
Sometimes I think about getting in touch with these people to extend the olive branch, so to speak. The holidays and that whole 'good will toward man' crap really gets to me. But I'm afraid that if they don't take the branch I might poke it in their eye. How dare you refuse my tasty olives? Can't you see I grow the best damn olives around? You won't find better from those other trees. You MISS my olives, even if you can't admit it.
Well, at least my mommy missed my olives (edited to say how wrong that sounds now that I've re-read it)That and she knew I'd feel terrible if something happened to her today and I hadn't spoken to her because I'm, well, me. She's having ten - that's right 10 - transfusions over the next couple of weeks, the first being this afternoon. On top of all her other health issues, she's severely anemic and requires some heavy iron doses, hence the transfusions.
I'm far less of a person than my mother, who picks up the phone when she's that sick to make amends while I, who's only sickness lies somewhere between my neck and my hairline, doesn't take that first step.
So today I learned a lesson: Don't hesitate. Pick up the phone. Email. Send out a Christmas card. Take the plunge and fix that broken relationship before it's too late.
And if the person doesn't take the olive branch, don't dispair. Just make sure you sharpened the tip beforehand so you can jab them in the palm. Then you can both feel crappy, but at least you apologized.
I've never said I don't need therapy. But my heart is in the right place.