Thursday, June 10, 2010
I chose to write on Prompt #3 from Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop: What would it take? Write an imaginary scene where someone you are still angry with finally deserves to be forgiven. I'm glad to finally get this off my chest and hope that you'll be honest. Tell me if you think I'm being petty or if I'm justified in how I feel. I won't get offended, sometimes I need an outside point of view to make sense of things.
I had this friend, we'll call her Mary, since Junior year of high school. We had both just moved and were new at the school. I was moving from New Jersey and she was moving from upstate New York. Moving from a town that is 15 minutes from NYC to a town that is surrounded by tree farms with only 3 (yes, 3!) roads that lead in or out of town located in the mountains of Pennsylvania was rough on me. It was a small town and having someone who understood was such a relief.
We stayed friends, although sometimes loosing touch, for about 13 years. She had a lot of trouble with her family and my Mom tried to do whatever she could to make her feel welcome. She lived with her mom, step dad and 2 much younger brothers and always felt like she wasn't really part of the family. One year right before Christmas, Mary was upset because she doesn't usually get anything and she's always upset on the holidays. So, we bought her some gifts and made everyone wait until she got there to open up presents. The funny part? Not one person in my family minded because she was like family.
Through the years we both moved. First, she moved to Virginia and then I moved to Maryland. When she was pregnant with her son and I found out her mom wasn't throwing her a shower, I planned one from out of state. I went down the day before, paid for everything, and decorated. Her mom never even responded.
Why am I mad at this great friend? Because I finally realized that the relationship was never a two way street. I guess I always knew that on some level but when my Mom passed away that was the last straw. My Mom passed away while visiting me in Maryland. Around 3 am the morning my Mom passed away, I called Mary. She didn't answer and I really didn't expect her too but I was hoping she would. The next day she called me from work and all I could do was cry. When I finally got the words out, all she could say was "Don't cry. Can I call you later?"
I tried to chalk it up to her being at work and maybe not wanting to get upset. But, she never called that day. I think she may have called the next day but I can't be sure. I did receive a text though asking me to call her but by then we were in the mist of planning the funeral and trying to figure out how in the world to piece everything together. I just couldn't call. Abby was 3 months old and I had 4 brothers and sisters looking to me for answers I didn't have.
The day of the funeral, Mary wasn't there. I know it's a far ride but for all my Mom did for her and for all I did for her, she should've been there. My Mom lived in the same small town as her mom. A town where my uncle is the Mayor. It wasn't hard to know when the services were being held. I would've have been there for her.
We only spoke once since my Mom's funeral. Mary made a comment that she wanted to be there but didn't know when anything was. I tried to explain that it was tough to even think straight and to be honest, I think I mentioned that it was in the paper or something along those lines.
So, on to the point of Mama Kat's prompt: What would it take for her to be forgiven? An apology. I'm not sure we'll ever be as close as we once were but I wonder how she's doing from time to time. So, in my imaginary world, Mary would admit she was wrong and tell me she was sorry. It's as simple as that.