Apologizing

Because the work on the house is so extensive, we’ve gotten to know our contractor pretty well over the past couple months as he’s replaced windows, doors, and now siding.  Awesome worker, he’s been great.

The other day we were just chatting as I was coming home with my sister and he said he was sorry it was taking so long and that he wished he didn’t have to do it all alone.  I sighed and agreed, “Me too.”  

Doing the dishes a couple hours later, I felt a knot in my stomach but couldn’t figure out what’d happened.  And then I remembered that little conversation and wondered if he could’ve possibly taken my reply the wrong way.  Did he think I meant I also wished there were two of him so the job wouldn’t take so long?  Not at all what I was saying; I was thinking how nice it would be to have two moms at this time of year, two of me to tackle the load.

So I stewed for a few minutes till I recognized there was only one recourse.  I had to clear the air.  Just in case.  So I stood in the entry way, just on the other side of the door from him, gearing up for the weirdest apology on the planet.  I’m usually pretty forthright with these; I’ve had so much practice.  But this one was especially awkward. 

And yet I knew I wouldn’t be able to settle down till I did it. So I just pushed through the door and simply told him I was so sorry if what I said came out wrong, that’s not me, I would never mean to say anything like that.  So we talked, of course he didn’t take it that way, all was well.  Whew.

But as I headed back in I wondered why that went so smoothly.  And why I still, after all these years, can’t be that level-headed with Todd.  Where do the tears come from? Why does my pride bubble up? Why am I so stubborn with the one person I care about more than any other in the entire world?

I knew immediately.  Too many emotions, too much history, too much invested.  It feels more complicated, like advanced dance steps; this was more of a straight-forward, basic two step.

And yet I was disappointed to recognize that I had it in me to be kind during a miscommunication, that I could be composed and reasonable, calm and to the point without making it all about my feelings.  In this case, I simply wanted to make amends for my mistake, to make certain I hadn’t bruised his ego or hurt his feelings; I wanted assurance that we were good and to move past it all as quickly as possible and get on with the work of the day.

That all sounds so reasonable and technically easy.  But it’s never really gone like that with Todd.  At least not that soon after we’ve had a disagreement.  It takes me some time to sift through what just happened. He accuses me of clamming up and I totally get it. I try to explain I’m just thinking it all through because I know a rift is always in my perception.  Because, honestly, how often is a spouse trying to hurt another? I can’t imagine Todd doing anything close.  He is loving and kind and sensitive.  And yet we get overwhelmed, stressed, annoyed, tired, frustrated, and hurt.  Sometimes by circumstances, sometimes by each other.

It’s even easier to apologize to my kids than it is to Todd.  Again, I think it’s just more clear-cut, there aren’t a lot of feelings involved. I know for certain our love is good, and I’m pretty sure they’ll forgive me right away (well, except Callum, sometimes he lets me fret a little longer).  It’s not so convoluted and complicated.  But then why does it need to be with Todd? Why can’t I just treat him as I would the lady at the store who I ran into with my cart or the teacher I might have offended with one of my comments?  Why does it have to always be so twisted up and hard?  I think it’s because I don’t want to risk being even more hurt.  What if he rejects me and my apology?  I don’t honestly care too much what the lady at the store or even my teacher friend thinks, I know in my heart I really am sorry and did what I could to make amends.  But to lose Todd—even for a few minutes—weighs on me like nothing else.  It’s like my love is exposed and raw and vulnerable for him to reject.  And yet he never has.  It’s as if there’s an opposition at play: as deeply as I care about him is how deeply I can feel hurt by him.  Even though I know in my head it’s unintentional and always more about me and my thoughts than what’s actually transpired.

So I choose to accept and be grateful for having misspoken with our friend.  There is no point in wasting even an awkward interaction because we can always learn something. I don’t know how I’ll do next time.  But I’m confident I’ll have the answer soon.  It’s Christmas.  With extended family in town, lots of cooking and late nights, self-inflicted expectations, and just a lot of commotion, I know I’ll get my chance to try again in the next couple of days.  I just honestly hope I can remember this uncomfortable communication with our gracious friend and use it for good to strengthen my relationship with the man I love with all my heart.