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This Logo was made for
me by Annie,
a friend from
AOL.
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OPENING THE DOOR
"Joe? Is that you?"
The woman speaking to me at the basketball game looked vaguely familiar.
"Marci?"
"It IS you!" she exclaimed, smiling broadly. "Gosh, it's good to
see
you again!"
It was good to see Marci, too. Off and on during the past few decades
I've wondered about her. I almost tried to track her down a few years ago
after talking to a mutual friend who had indicated that the 1980s had been
pretty rocky for Marci. So bumping into her at the basketball game was, at
the very least, fortuitous.
We spent a few minutes catching up on the business of our lives --
kids and careers, spouses and houses, education and recreation (it's always
a little disconcerting to see how few words are required to summarize 25
years of living). We played a little "have you seen... ?" and
"did you
know... ?" and we reminisced about the good old, bad old days.
Then Marci grew quiet for a moment, looking out over the crowd milling
about the concession area.
"You know, Joe," she said, "I've always wanted to tell you...
how...
you know... how sorry I am for the way I treated you."
I squirmed. One does not like to remember when one has been
unceremoniously dumped.
"It's OK," I said. "No big deal." At least, I thought to
myself, not now.
"But I was such a jerk," she continued.
Yes, you were, I thought. "We were both pretty young," I said.
"I know," she said. "But that's no excuse for... " She
hesitated, then
continued. "It's just always bothered me, remembering how mean I was to
you. And I've wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. So... I'm sorry."
The smile on her face was warm and sincere. And there was something
in her eyes -- it looked a lot like relief -- that melted any vestiges of
icy resentment that may have built up within me during the years since she
had slam dunked my heart.
"OK," I said. "Apology accepted!" Overcome by the sweetness
of the
moment, I reached an arm around her and gave her a quick hug. Just then,
the crowd erupted with a huge cheer, and Marci and I both returned our
attention to the game.
By the time I looked over to where she had been, she was gone.
But the warm, wonderful feeling of our brief exchange was still there,
and continues to this day whenever I think about it.
We all carry bitter, discomforting memories of deeds done or undone,
and words said or unsaid. And we all bear wounds -- some slight, some
not-so-slight -- that have been inflicted upon us by others.
The healing balm of forgiveness can soothe a troubled conscience and
bring peace to an injured soul -- even years after the fact.
Of course, it isn't enough to just say "I'm sorry" and "You're
forgiven." While there is indeed great power in those simple words, it is
not available to those who are insincere, or who are only looking for a way
to control, manipulate or exploit. But when those words are truly felt and
sincerely expressed, they can open the door to miracles of the heart and
soul -- miracles of forgiveness.
Even at a basketball game.
This Web Page was created
on April 18, 2001
Updated on April 6, 2003
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