Chapter 12 - Grandpa’s Apology Did Not End With a Hug
Richard saw Noah in March.
Four months after Thanksgiving.
Neutral place.
A family therapist’s office.
No Rebecca.
No business talk.
Emily sat beside Noah.
I sat on his other side.
Dad entered.
For perhaps the first time in his life, Richard Prescott looked unsure where to sit.
The therapist indicated:
the chair across from Noah.
He sat.
Noah held:
nothing.
No toy.
No distraction.
His leg bounced.
Dad began:
“I’m sorry Thanksgiving got out of control.”
I nearly interrupted.
The therapist did first.
“Richard.”
He stopped.
“What are you apologizing for?”
Dad looked annoyed.
Then remembered why he was there.
He looked at Noah.
“I shoved you.”
Noah nodded.
“I called you worthless.”
“Yes.”
“I told your parents to take you out of my house.”
“Yes.”
“I was wrong.”
Noah looked at him.
Dad continued.
“You spilled food.”
“You apologized.”
“That should have been the end.”
“Yes.”
“I scared you.”
Noah’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Dad’s did too.
“I am sorry.”
Silence.
Then Noah asked:
“Why did you call me worthless?”
Dad looked toward me.
The therapist said:
“Answer Noah.”
Richard swallowed.
“Because I was angry at your dad.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“No.”
Dad almost smiled sadly.
“It doesn’t.”
Noah waited.
Richard continued.
“I have been angry at your father for a long time because he chose a different life than I wanted for him.”
Noah frowned.
“Because he doesn’t make cabinets?”
Despite everything, Emily almost smiled.
Dad said:
“Something like that.”
Then:
“I started treating his choices like they meant your family mattered less.”
“That was wrong too.”
Noah looked at me.
Then Dad.
“Do you still think our house is bad?”
Richard’s face changed.
“No.”
“Do you think my school is for losers?”
“No.”
“You said it was second-rate.”
Dad swallowed.
“I shouldn’t have.”
Noah became quiet.
Then:
“I don’t want Thanksgiving at your house.”
Richard nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
“I don’t want Christmas there either.”
Another pause.
“Okay.”
“I might come for lunch someday.”
Dad’s eyes filled.
“I’d like that.”
Noah said:
“Maybe.”
That was it.
No hug.
Richard looked like he wanted one.
He did not ask.
Good.
At the door, he turned toward Emily.
“I owe you an apology too.”
She answered:
“Yes.”
He nodded.
Not that day.
Later.
One relationship at a time.
In the car, Noah asked:
“Was Grandpa sad?”
“Yes.”
“Did I make him sad?”
“No.”
“The consequences of what he did made him sad.”
Noah thought.
“That sounds like something Mom says.”
Emily laughed.
“I’m raising everyone.”
Progress.
Richard’s apology did not restore:
old family.
That family needed to end.
Something else might grow.
Slowly.
With doors.
With permission.
May you like
With no child responsible for making an adult feel forgiven.
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