open letter week

http://www.lastmomonearth.com/2012/06/open-letter-week-letter-to-girl-at.html

Dear MKT,

I saw a picture of you.  You were younger than me, an age for you that is hard for me to wrap my head around.

You were pretty in a familiar kind of way.  I searched for myself in your face and was disappointed when I found very little similarity.  I hope to be like you someday.

There are pictures of you with friends, with your husband.  I am jealous.  I don't think it's fair that they got to choose you.  I was born into it, expected to love.  As a young child, this is something one may resent.

If we were children together, I would have braided your hair.  We would have been lake friends and climbed on rocks smelling of moss and pine.
Mini scrapes on our legs after a day acting as mermaids.
Sun-kissed skin and hair.

Later we would have written letters with first accounts of first loves, me feeling a little envious of the boys taking the place of late night phone calls.
Never censored, we would laugh with gremlin faces and wear over-sized shirts for pajamas, asking questions and telling all.

At your father's funeral, I would have stood, scared and awkward.  My own tears flowing, putting myself in your place.

Once a year through college we would visit.  I would tell you how beautiful you have become.   You would tell me how hard it has been.

I would have chosen you to be my best friend, but when it comes to this letter, I do not know how to talk about us as adults.

Your grace, understanding, compassion, knowledge.

Would you want to see me now?

You had such faith in me.

You know me better than I know you.  The memories you have go further back: you remember when I was born, I remember wiggling off your lap, embarrassed to be so loved.

In older years I watched my mother curling your hair.  Your eyes were closed.  You missed being touched, and relished, like the monkeys we are, being groomed.  You seemed so human I wanted to cry.

(Thoughts of us together as children, braiding your hair....)

This is my apology for being the youngest and late to the game.
For not being the friend I wish I had been had circumstances been different.
For being the boy in "The Giving Tree" while you, the Tree, gave all.

You are rooted deep in my bones.
That is unshakable.
And despite not choosing you,  I would have never wanted anyone else.  I am lucky.
You were loved and continue to be loved everyday of my life without you.
And I loved you, so much, when you were in it.

Just thought you should know.

Love Always,
Your granddaughter

The Moral Hangover

A fantastic phrase. I wish I could take credit.  I know that one of my wittier friends came up with it, and, friend, if you are reading this, please remind me that you were the one to coin the phrase "moral hangover" as well as it's definition.
This is my struggle.  I second guess most decisions and regret much of the past. Here's the thing, I am a good person.  I do not speak poorly of my friends.  Ever.  I love my family and am a natural caretaker.  But when someone accuses me of an unkind action or gets the wrong impression, I second guess myself over and over again.
And truthfully, we don't always know how what we say are going to be perceived, do we?  I may go into a situation with the best intentions only to find that I stuck my nose where it did not belong or said something with the incorrect intonation, making it sound sarcastic or insincere.
I am no saint.   This is not what I claim.  That's laughable.  I have made mistakes. Many.
Here is the moral hangover: I am unable to forgive myself for things I have done when I was a child. 
I remember a childhood friend of mine who told me I was a bully.  What?!   And at the time I pondered over what I had done to him to make him say that...
Days and nights.
And then it hit me: as a joke while in the woods with our buddies, I told him to stick his head in the water to see if there were any leeches.  I didn't actually want him to do that, of course.  I don't even know why I said it. I do know what I felt when it happened.  I felt happy to be in the woods with my fun friends. 
As an adult, I can see how that was mean.  At the time, I just wasn't thinking.  I was playing.  I adored this friend of mine, and to this day I still feel terrible that I made him feel like an outcast, a victim.
Oh moral hangover, why must you last so long.
The reason I bring this up now: because my moral hangovers are heavy and abundant, I am reliving the past, recent and ancient. I comb through what may have happened that I missed....something I should not have done or said. And what gets me is this: I actually keep messing up!  I miss the mark, hurt feelings, put my foot in my mouth.  When it comes to my attention, the guilt is overwhelming.
This makes it very hard to grow up.
So, please forgive me? I betcha I didn't mean it!