When my first daughter was  five years old she had developed this habit of getting into just enough trouble with her mother that my wife would demand an “I am sorry” from her.  Now my daughter could  certainly show that she was sorry by her actions but the words were a whole different story.  On one particular occasion, both parties had dug in their heels and neither was any where near giving in.  Enter the negotiator.  I had developed a technique for helping my daughter come to the right decision.  It involved the Bernstein Bears series of children’s books with their subtle message of doing the right thing.  This episode required a lesson on saying that one was sorry.  As we read the book together and reached the obvious subtle message, my daughter began to tell me that they, being the bears, need to say the words.  She turned to me and very determinedly said “they need to tell their mom that they are sor……, they need to say they are sor….” but the words just couldn’t come.  And then they did and as she turned to me with alligator tears in her eyes she said, “I NEED to tell MY mom I’m sorry”.  Mission accomplished, I guess.  That is if saying I’m sorry is the cure.

The point here is that there are two sides to this issue and I want to speak to the receiving end of the confession.  As important as it is, and often as hard as it is, the apology may only be the gesture.  A noble gesture when sincere but still only half of the issue.  The forgiveness will ultimately carry a far more lasting and cleansing catharsis.  I learned this lesson first hand as young child.  My brother had been hit and killed by a car.  The driver of the car, a young man, was devastated by what had happened.  I could only feel anger that his action had taken my brother from me.  What I witnessed next shaped my view for the rest of my life.  My parents had every right to harbor anger but they instead invited that man into our house where they consoled him, reminded him it was an accident and yes, forgave him.  As I look back, I know now that to have not done that would have only eaten at them for the rest of their lives.  That harboring anger would have drained their energy and any chance they had of moving on for the rest of their family.  And we needed them to be strong for us.

Forgiveness is an act that is given.  Though one may ask to be forgiven, the word itself indicates it can only be given.  It must be unconditional to work.  Too often we can hold on to our anger while we wait for the apology that may never come or even be able to be given.  We must at some point forgive, not just for the forgiven, but more so for ourselves.  Make no mistake, the forgiveness does not excuse the action or in any way condones it.  It simply serves to begin our opportunity to heal.

So I am glad that my daughter learned so long ago to say she was sorry, in fact, she became quite proficient at it, but we need to let her know that she was forgiven.  In fact, that she was forgiven the moment she had gotten in trouble.

Update on the knee replacement. It has been two weeks and I am reminded by the PT people ONLY two weeks. I am ahead of schedule but have lots of muscle stretching and compression to go. Result, I have been asked to stay home for at least two more weeks after this one. When they remind me this is my new knee and the work I do on it and the time to recover will determine how good it will be, there really isn’t any argument. I have agreed to give it that time and the workout required, so now I become dependent on my coworkers and clients to understand. I must admit that it is very hard not feeling guilty but the pain reminds me that I must do it this way. Thanks to all who help me through this, by doing the rehab, cheerleading, filling in, being patient with me and for even just being able to visit.

I am not usually a blogger but this experience has left me feeling a need to write. I am a service person by nature but I am humbled by the service given to me during my five-day stay at the all-inclusive Meriter Hospital. Along with a penthouse view of Madison from my 9th floor suite, I was treated like I was royalty by every nurse, doctor, CNA and physical and occupational therapist that served time during my stay. The genuine concern and caring offered by each and every one of them was humbling No matter the time, no matter the request, they were there with a smile and a touch to take care of me. Now I believe I was not high maintenance, or at least I tried not to be, but they still have to deal with a litany of whining, complaining and generally undesirable tasks that only one with a caring heart could possibly undertake. On the bright side, I learned that talking about peeing and pooping is akin to “did I tell you what I did on my last vacation.” I especially want to thank the nurse, I believe it was Theresa, who performed the “pee dance” for me early one morning. Good news, it worked. At that point my catheter, aka: my little friend” was removed and my “man parts”, Deb’s definition, were no longer on display for all to see. Through all of this, these nurses and CNA’s never left you feeling embarrassed. I started the summer with a trip to Puerta Vallarta in an all-exclusive resort, I have ended it in one that goes even above and beyond. Thank God for nurses with caring hearts and tender touch and oh yeah, health insurance.