Ramble: I’m sorry…so sorry…

I’m Sorry

I’m sorry.

Oh dear, I’m sorry.

I’m SOOOO sorry!

Sorry.

I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry

If I had the time, hours and hours…and hours… I’d count the number of times “I’m Sorry” is said in this house. I have a feeling the number would be astronomical.

We—my daughter, grand-daughter and I—are “sorry-ers” from way back. My daughter, is our leader. She learned her sorry ways from me and then as every mother hopes her child will, she surpassed my own capacity for being sorry; I’m sorry to say. And, unfortunately, it appears my grand-daughter is determined to take the crown some day.

We apologize for just about every moment we’re on the planet.

If we pass each other (or anyone else) in the hallway, we apologize–just for having the temerity to pass. If we reach for the salt at the same time as someone else, we say, “sorry”. If we sneeze, hiccough, stretch or change positions in our chairs…we apologize.

If we stumble, cross someone’s path, yawn—even when we’re alone—we say, “I’m sorry.”

I, myself, once apologized to the dog when she ran across my foot and scraped it with her claws!

I’ve apologized to complete strangers who have knocked my shoulder in their haste to get past me in the mall and I’ve said, “I’m sorry” to every homeless person I’ve ever given money to, because it wasn’t enough—no matter how much it actually was.

I’ve apologized to my sleeping husband every time I’ve accidentally brushed up against him in the middle of the night—I’ve done this for 35 years.

And, I once said, “Oh, dear. I’m sorry” to the man behind me in the grocery store check-out line when he shoved his basket into the back of my legs because he wanted me to move forward 3 inches.

I’m sorry, but wasn’t it his responsibility to apologize?

My sister once told me, “Stop apologizing for every little thing you do. There’s no reason to and it makes it seem that you don’t think you’re as good as everyone else. Stop it!”

I responded, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Although I know exactly why my daughter and grand-daughter are the way they are—it’s because I modeled that behavior for them; I taught them to always be sorry just for breathing—I don’t know why I am the way I am.

Neither of my parents apologize too much. My sister and brother have much stronger personalities than I. Neither of them say “I’m sorry” a thousand times a day. What makes me so darned apologetic 24/7?

I’m sorry, I have no idea.

What I do know is this:

  • I AM as good as everyone else—and in some cases, better! (I’m talking to you guy down the street who kicks your dog every chance you get.) So there’s no need to apologize because I’m breathing the same air as everyone else.
  • I AM NOT stupid, or uninteresting. Not everything I say is worthless or unimportant. I need to remember that sometimes, people really do want to hear what I have to say!
  • I CAN take pride in my accomplishments. I’m a great writer and a published author. I’m a pretty good public speaker (BELIEVE IT OR NOT!) and I’m a motivator of others.
  • AND, I’m told by my children I’m a pretty good mom; my grandchildren tell me I’m “The Best Grammy in the World” and The Hubster seems happy to be married to me. There’s no reason to apologize for being who I am. I’m great!

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So, why can’t I stop apologizing?

I’m sorry. I don’t know.

 

 (Click Here to hear “I’m Sorry” by Brenda Lee 1960)

 

 

 

 

About angieabk

"I'd like to think of myself as a blended mix of Southern charm and humor. What I really am is a hot mess of sin and sass. Jesus loves me either way."

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