Nothing Like Saying, I Am Sorry …

I leaned back in my office chair, gazing outside at lush vegetation. A breeze swirled through the branches and leaves. Most calming. My thoughts shifted to the individuals who visited me today. Each person welcomed me into their distress in the hope of renewal and direction.

All these individuals wanted to be heard while sharing their candid stories. They embraced the quiet, confidential space, readying their dialog. Some were initially cautious. Others were focused and earnest. Their stories were fully embellished with fine detail and sentiment.

When my turn came to offer professional counsel, most were agreeable to hear about trying another way. Some were not and vigorously shook their heads—no!

I considered my last client of the day. With determination, this thirty-ish man threw open the door and boldly walked in. Perfectly attired in a collared, plaid shirt and tan, khaki pants, he stood tall before me and greeted me extending his large hand.

Mr. Silver had arrived.

Minutes later, he filled my ears with expert storytelling. Life was going his way. He had completed a Master’s degree and found a challenging position with a decent salary. He has many good friends, enjoyed fun times with them on the soccer field and meals out. He also recently purchased a roomy house with space for a pool table in the finished basement for entertaining family and friends. A lovely lady had caught his attention months back and they were arranging a festive wedding.

He looked out the window and took a breath.

I jumped in.

“There are wonderful things happening in your life. Life appears to be working well for you. Yet you are here for counseling …”

Mr. Silver looked down and cleared his throat. He looked sad.

“Ah, well there is a situation with how the wedding is being planned. Um… It is about my mother … she wants everything done her way or else! It doesn’t matter what I or my fiancée want. The other night we had a terrible argument. I was very upset and spoke out of line. I'm afraid our plans are going to fall apart. I feel so bad and my heart hurts.’’

“I can sense your pain …like a welded knot in your gut, filling you with remorse. You were trying to appease your mother and be considerate to your bride-to-be. You were tangled in a harsh dispute with angry words playing over and over. So much remorse. You wish that you hadn't said...”

“That I never said such awful, hateful things! Please know that I am a decent person. I love my mom. I don’t want our relationship to be like this. I want us to get along.”

“Then, Mr. Silver, you may need to take the first step.”

“And do what?”

“Tell your mother you’re sorry.”

“What? She started all this!’’

“Yes, and you continued the disagreement such that you’re filled with regret.”

The young man looked closely at me.

“Carrying on with such upset is not the way you do life. You enjoy fun times with family and friends. Embracing a wife, you also want to include your mother.”

Neither of us spoke. The wall clock clicked the minutes.

“This is so humbling.” He shook his head, both hands rubbing his cheeks. “I probably do need to take that first step. Be a man … especially be a son."

“Yes, the first step is to let go of the anger and guilt. Come reason and start over.”

“So, I put myself out there to make the first move? What if she doesn't accept my apology and the situation gets worse?”

“This could happen. By saying you are sorry, you are expressing your desire to reconcile this relationship. Your mother may be wary of your apology …”

“Then why bother at all?”

“Because by seeking reconciliation, you will be releasing all the hostility and your need to be right. Assuming a peace-filled countenance will hopefully settle a good deal of this matter. Then, with a changed heart, you can all work together on the wedding plans.”

Lost in thought, Mr. Silver thumbed the collar of his shirt. “Not sure this is possible. Need to think. Maybe I will call you …” He then stood and, again, held out his hand.

***

The door closed gently as Mr. Silver left. I felt his angst. Still do.

In resolving these issues, this young man faced a fierce rally of emotion and reaction. Strong words were spoken. There were huge differences of opinion. Yet loose strands of love, honor and respect remained. Binding them with understanding and forgiveness could weave them into a tight tapestry.

***

One day while thumbing through the usual office bills, there was a thick, colorful envelope. I ripped it open. Out fell his wedding photos and a brief scribbled note stating …

“Life can be good.”

… “and that’s how I live it.”

Confidentiality Note – this given case study is based on a composite, fictional personality. Dialogue is a representation of cited words.