The bitterest tears shed over graves are for
words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Outside storm clouds gathered, everybody was getting ready for a heavy downpour. But in her mind anger was building, the weather reflecting vividly her minds reality. The more she thought about it the angrier she got,” how can he be so uncaring” she thought.
Her heart was pounding even as the fire of the anger spread round her body. The person who caused it all was not even helping issues; he appeared undisturbed, ignorant of the fact that he has triggered a firestorm.
The more she looked at him the more she thought he did it on purpose; he brought her here just to punish her. All of a sudden she starts feeling warm on the inside like she was having a fever. The heat spreads to her face and it turns a pinkish hue. The ignorant will think she was blushing not knowing she was burning up in anger. The fire rages on even as it is fanned by distant memories of him causing her so much pain she has been through a lot for him and has tried really hard to put it all behind her. But now it all came back like an avalanche.
That is when she noticed her hands were shaking. All the things she wanted to say to him were like hot lava boiling up from the depths of the earth. It came straight from her belly, ready to be unleashed. It was like gall in her throat and try as hard as she could, she couldn’t stomach it any longer.
There is a sense of being in anger.
A reality and presence.
An awareness of worth. It is a lovely surging.
As the words reach her mouth and she begins to talk, he turns round holds her hands and says, “sorry dear for putting you through all this, I know you don’t like these gatherings but that’s part of my job description now. Thanks for making it at such a short notice.”
Surprised by the sudden apology, she steps back a bit even as the heat in her body subsides and the tremors abate as if some unknown authority has commanded them so to do. She smiled at him, the much she could muster hoping it looked like a smile and not some grotesque image that will give nightmares to a child.
Even as her heart tries to beat more slowly, she wonders, “so he knows but he could have shown it before all this so that I wouldn’t have allowed my insides be eaten up by acid”. Feeling calmer but not entirely happy, she smiles more broadly, looks him in the eyes and says, “any way I can help just let me know, I am always here for you”.
And then she takes her leave to powder her nose, marveling at the strength of a heartfelt apology and its power to calm a raging storm.