Chapter 9 - The Apology Was Written Like A Legal Defense
Celeste sent June a letter.
Her attorney delivered it to mine.
Helen had the right to decide whether June saw it.
She asked me to read it first.
The first sentence:
I am sorry that our disagreement frightened you.
I stopped.
There had been no disagreement.
June was seven.
Celeste was forty-two.
The letter continued:
I should have handled your behavior differently.
Your behavior.
Not mine.
Then:
I regret that you were hurt by the mirror breaking.
Again.
The mirror apparently acted alone.
There was no sentence saying:
I shoved you.
I threatened you.
I treated you as inferior because of your mother’s job.
I told Helen:
“Don’t give this to her.”
She nodded.
“I wasn’t going to.”
Celeste later accused us of blocking her attempt to make amends.
My attorney responded simply:
“A meaningful apology remains available whenever your client is prepared to write one.”
No second letter came.
That told me enough.
May you like
Celeste wanted credit for apologizing without experiencing the humiliation of naming her behavior.
Accountability demanded too much.
