Recall
Confessions, IndieInk, The Deep, Whatnot Comments (18)
This week’s installment of the IndieInk Writing Challenge was submitted by Nicollette, who asks me to recall ‘a moment you were your absolute worst to someone, but they forgave you and how it made you feel towards them and about yourself’. Difficult on a number of different levels. I clearly need to start writing about dog poop again in an effort to offset ‘The Deep’ here. Karla’s wonderful response to my challenge can be found here.
It’s unfair to judge our actions as adolescents or teenagers, especially given the unfair advantage of time and perspective. It’s like using hindsight as a bludgeon to beat ourselves up regarding things that time has forgotten, despite our refusal to do the same. I’ve moved beyond judgment at this point; it’s easier to see now where I was coming from then, though it doesn’t excuse anything or lessen the squirming. And who doesn’t enjoy a good squirm from time to time? /raises hand/
I was about 14 at the time, which made my sister around nine and brother roughly five. Estimations, of course. Numbers aren’t important here. To this point in the story, I had already been for the previous couple years largely the responsible one for the siblings and would continue to be so until freedom rang in the form of a diploma and the military. Our house was not overwhelmingly adequate in the parenting department, to say the least. Mom did her best, which I came to appreciate after the fact having experienced actual life elsewhere, while the contribution of the other ‘adult’ unit primarily involved converting oxygen to carbon dioxide.
We had neighbors a wheat field away with whose kids I spent a lot of time playing sports and just generally doing whatever enabled me to not be home for long swaths of time. One afternoon, I was next door playing basketball with one of the neighbor kids when my sister wandered over and attempted to install herself in the game. In the narrow view of a 14-year old who felt over-burdened and under-appreciated, this was infuriating. She was horning in on my one opportunity to be free of her and my brother (for whom she served as proxy in this case). I said things to this effect. She turned around and walked slowly home, back across the field, to a house where none of us felt particularly happy to be.
My regret was immediate, despite my desperate attempts to justify my callousness. I can recall with devastating accuracy the look on her face and her posture as she walked back across that field. I give my younger self credit for understanding our shared predicament at that moment. How unfair it was of me to assume that the burden of that house was mine alone. How at least one other person might share my desire to escape. And how, despite my learned independence, others might not have acquired the same character trait that enabled me to be comfortable alone (at least from my point of view at the time). This all ran through my head in the moment it took to process the helplessness displayed in her silent march away from me. Every recollection of this since then, including that moment itself, has destroyed me.
It destroys me despite that fact that I apologized, then and later. Her forgiveness didn’t ease the memory’s impact then and doesn’t now. She’s become such an amazing person, maker of a nephew and niece, wife to a stellar guy whose enormous family is the provider of endless entertainment. Her house now is everything ours never was. Of all the comforts her story provides, perhaps the greatest is that I know that her kids will never have to dread going home. That because of her, home will always be a place worth crossing any field to reach. I’ve found rays of hope in this fact that have sustained me at times in ways such that were she to ever require it, I’d sell everything and write her a check.
Sir @ March 16, 2011
I love how conversational this piece is. I feel like I’m sitting on your couch listening to you tell this story, and it’s wonderful.
there’s a comforting familiarity between siblings that sometimes leads to hurt not being as intentional as we might mean it. this is a scenario that i have known personally, that i have witnessed in my kids. the offending party seems to take it worse. you felt bad about it, as you should, but you should cut yourself some slack, too.
remember, hindsight is 20/20 but hindscent just flat out stinks.
Really enjoyed reading this. It’s a hard prompt to answer and it does make me squirmy to think back to teenage hood too, especially the things I said to my parents!
kids are instinctively selfish, teens retain that instinct but also have enough awareness of others to induce guilt (a process that certain mothers hone into a infinitely sharp weapon). After growing up, I have a pretty decent ability to put myself in others shoes, to see their side of the argument. That has, unfortunately, developed into a deep capacity for remorse, and the propensity to use that capacity to the hilt when depressed – to the effect that the depression is deepened exponentially – logarithmically, even. Hence the phrase, we are our own worst critic/enemy/goat-herder.
I doubt that anyone I wronged in the past was so damaged by me that their lives were irrevocably altered. I’m just not that important in the scheme of things. I wish I could let these things go. Maybe Alzheimer’s will come to the rescue. With my luck, though, it will probably be ALS and I won’t even get to be…the….luckiest….man….on…the…face…of….the…earth…..
The relationship between siblings is so treacherous. We are bonded together for life, a relationship we may loathe in our youth as we struggle to become ourselves but come to love as our siblings become integral to whom we have become. Your response to this challenge expressed that sentiment beautifully!
I found your phrase, “every recollection of this since then, including that moment itself, has destroyed me” so touching because it perfectly describes the way we can feel about ourselves when we confront the cruelty to which we are capable (and we all are capable of great cruelty, especially as kids). Interestingly, I think that it is your same capacity to feel this intense emotion that also allows you to feel the great respect, admiration and love that you now feel for your sister.
I really enjoyed this, thanks.
I enjoyed this, how you’ve praised your sister and how you’ve understood what that moment meant to her. Thank you for telling this story (and also for reading pieces)
What a hard prompt to respond to. You handled it so well. I’m always amazed at how our worst to someone can eventually bring out our best… well done…
This is a difficult prompt. I somehow think the damage we did to others as kids should be erased. Yet I know that some of my biggest regrets lie there too. Forgive yourself. It’s time.
so well written. i love the phrase “neighbors a wheat field away” to whom you could escape, and was so pleased reading as you continued to use that field to tell your story.
so deep and heavy too, to read this as a parent. trying to provide a good and loving home but knowing that despite our best intentions our children could carry a memory like this for a lifetime. that’s rough.
i am glad to be reading your excellent writing.
Very well written, and not an easy prompt.
[...] **My challenge to You can call me, ‘Sir’ is here** [...]
[...] Nicollette challenged Sir: Recall [...]
You effectively made me relive a bunch of teenage regrets I have; I do not thank you for that :) Very moving and well written.
I really enjoyed this and I’m glad you shared it. I always think we’re so critical of ourselves and our actions until we forget that we are inevitably human—we’re going to hurt each other (more than once), we’re going to be selfish and we’re going to regret things but the relationships that survive through all of that are the ones that are most important.
I, too, think siblings have that special relationship.
Great response and great job!!
It is said that we are alone and that we cannot count with anybody but ourselves. Family is the closer you get to not being alone in this world. You can stop being somebody friend but you can never stop being family not matter what happens.
There are always moments in life we regret. They tend to stick in our minds for long time. I always say to myself, I cannot change what I have already done. All I can do is learn and avoid the same error. I try to block all thoughts of “what could’ve been”, they serve no purpose.
I’ve been terrible at reading blogs lately, if I can define “lately” as “for, like, a year.” But I’m glad I dropped by here… lots of good writing to be found. Cheers.
Also, this post made me remember being 10 and saying the worst thing I’ve ever said to another person. I now want to travel back in time and smack myself.
Lovely. Painful… but lovely.
Supermaren: That’s pretty much how I try to write. It makes a lot of things flow easier when you imagine yourself having an informal conversation with someone. This appears to hold true even when the ‘someone’ includes legions of strangers and you’re writing/talking about uncomfortable stuff. It doesn’t necessarily make sense to me, either.
Brandon: How dare you come here with your perfectly reasonable observations and horrible punnery. The nerve!
Zee: Yes, teenagers are the worst and we’re all the worst at some point(s) in our lives. An important thing to remember in order to keep ourselves humble. And if it’s squirmy you’re looking for, read my answer to this week’s challenge.
Bob: Depression on logarithmic scales is a genuinely scary thought.
Karla: I enjoyed your comment as much, if not more, than you enjoyed this post. Thank you, as well.
Andrea: You’re very welcome, on both counts.
Marian: Frequently, the very concept of parenthood makes me curl up into a ball and start to softly weep with the abstract understanding of all the things that are beyond our control. Also, the feeling is mutual, re: reading your excellent writing.
Wendryn: Many thanks for your kind words.
Lazidaisical: I love being an inadvertent trigger for teenage regrets. It’s like a calling. So, you’re welcome :)
anthropoet: I agree with every word of your comment. Humans are very messy. The animal kingdom no doubt watches us in horror and confusion, as do we ourselves often enough.
Lifenbits: It’s true that the past needs to stay where it is in order for us to move forward. Moving on might be the hardest thing some people ever have to do. If only we defined success as what people have left behind and overcome instead of how much they currently have.
Jamelah: I’ve been pretty horrible at both reading and commenting for quite awhile now, too (see: This response to people’s comments is two weeks late). No need to feel bad. Also, I think everyone would benefit from a little time-travel-for-the-sake-of-smacking-oneself action.
Shari: There’d be no pleasure without pain. I think someone said that about something once and, frankly, I’m not sure I buy it, but there it is, nevertheless.