But this time, it served up a good laugh and a memory that will probably be shared (embellished) around my casket someday!
Trazodone can have a funny effect on me. It gives me wild, vivid dreams. Most notably, I'm usually warding off someone in my dream who is trying to grab me, and I shriek out loud—very loud. If that's not enough, I sound like a little girl! Yeah, it's really bad and super embarrassing.
On this particular flight, I'd been snoozing soundly for a couple of hours. I'm guessing it was about 2:30 AM. I had one of those episodes when I screeched super loud. Obviously, it woke up Dave-- but the best part was when he described the reaction of the lady sitting across the aisle from me. Picture an older lady, hunched over in her seat with a long, colorful sari draped over her head. Poor lady—she never knew what hit her!
She slooooowly, mechanically turned her head to the right to see where this deeply disturbing sound had come from! Dave said her dark eyes were as wide as saucers! For a millisecond, she had to think the plane was goin' down! Coming in hot with an imminent fiery crash into the depths of the icy Atlantic…
Sleep can be elusive.
I have noticed other things in life can also be elusive and difficult to discover. Just out of reach. Things like justice. Being heard. Understood—and genuinely seen.
And… apologies.
If you've been around the planet for very long, I bet you believe some people owe you a well-deserved apology. Not justification for hurtful words delivered with smart-bomb precision or for their unsettling, tactless behavior. No blame-shifting and no gaslighting. Just acknowledging their poor behavior.
As the hands of time tick on, you may play—and replay--an unfolding scenario in your mind where the other person makes their way over to you to make it right. To own their stuff. To show a tad of remorse and offer a simple apology. To your credit, you also may envision yourself humbly serving a lavish portion of forgiveness with a sprig of grace on the side.
It took years—but, in your imagination, the apology arrived. Healing can now begin. A new day has dawned to make new memories together--to put the past behind you and take up where you left off.
But, as the hourglass sands slip away, days turn into weeks, weeks into years…and maybe years into decades, that day never materializes.
Still no apology.
Only memories—and not the good ones. You know firsthand the frequent inner battles not to be bitter, to fight the replay the offense ad nauseam. Disillusionment can begin to settle in for a long winter's nap—in your soul. At least, that is the temptation.
Maybe you need to hear this today. You know that the long-hoped-for apology will probably never come. They have moved on. They may not even remember the event—and if they do, they are just fine.
Folks, we can't change others. We don't want to manipulate them into an apology—like we do with our pubescent children when we force them to "apologize" to their sister.
