30 Days of Honesty rolls on. Today, Day 4:
Day 04 â†’ Something you have to forgive someone for.
When I was just a year old, I was given a baby doll for Christmas. She was named Angel (and yes, my mom said I named her so you know I was hooked up to them early on.) and I pretty much went nowhere without her. Cousin O’Love really hated her and used to step on her head. (I could go Freudian on you about that but I digress.) Suffice to say that Angel and I were inseparable for much of my childhood.
When I was about ten years old, we got some new neighbors in the apartment next door – the new maintenance man, his wife and their two daughters. The mom was really young, as I recall. Maybe 18 or so and had two kids already. I used to babysit for her now and again and got to be friendly with them. I brought Angel over there so they could play with her. Something happened and the maintenance guy got fired and the family had to move and do it quickly so they packed up and left, almost in the middle of the night. Of course, Angel was packed up with them.
I did some investigative work (no idea how I did this since there was no Google at the time) and found the phone number of the couple, called the nice lady and asked for Angel back. She was sorry she took her and said she didn’t have a car but I could come pick her up and gave me her address. I ran in and told Mom who said “I’m not driving to that neighborhood. It’s not a safe place.” and that was that. Angel was gone.
As you can imagine, I was heartbroken. Cried and cried and cried to my dad. (Since he was blind, he couldn’t drive. Mom was the driver in the house.) He sat me down and said this: “Okay, so she has Angel now. That little girl doesn’t have much in her life and now she has a piece of you. Maybe that will help her somehow.” And that has stuck with me all these years (40 of them, actually). It really did make me feel better about losing Angel.
Years ago, before Mom died, I asked her why she didn’t go and get Angel. She said she couldn’t remember why and that she was sorry for not going. I didn’t want to forgive her then.
I will now.
Mom, I know you hear me when I say this: I understand that a lot was going on and I forgive you for not understanding what losing Angel truly meant to me.
I love you.
(Let’s hope Day 5 is cheerier! If I could scan in a picture of Angel, you’d laugh. She was just this dorky doll with no hair. But I loved her.)