Tiny Coconut

I have things.

Friday, September 24, 2004

I'm Sorry

I'm sorry for spending so much time compiling lists of personal grievances and lamenting my lot in life.

I'm sorry for spending so little time truly savoring all of my blessings.

I'm sorry for all the times I looked the other way when faced with someone in need.

I'm sorry for not having moved forward even an inch in my personal journey to discover and explore Judaism, and to expose my children to it so that they, as adults, will have a basis from which to work should they choose to make their own exploration.

I'm sorry about Madonna and her whole kabbalah thing. Trust me, you're not the only one who's deeply embarrassed by her.

I'm sorry that there are still people planning to vote for Dubya.

I'm sorry for the way my patience still gets thin sometimes with my precious kids; I'm sorry for yelling too often, or even at all, especially when I know darned well that it's mostly undeserved.

I'm sorry for my fairly anorexic levels of patience for life in general.

I'm sorry for often being petty and mean for no good reason, for feeling jealous of others' successes, and for not always being as supportive as I could be of friends and family, especially Baroy.

I'm sorry for being such an inveterate gossip, and for savoring every juicy tidbit, even when it involves the pain of others.

There are a lot of things I do fairly well; a lot of ways in which I believe I am a good person; a lot of instances which I believe indicate that I'm becoming an ever-better human being. But today is about shortcomings and downfallings. It's about recognizing those shortcomings and downfallings, and about apologizing for them. It's about working to overcome them in the new year. And I will. I will work at them. But it's going to be hard, and there are going to be times when I'll fail. Which leads me to:

I'm sorry for the mango I just ate, well after sundown, just because it was sitting there all ripe and ready for me, and for the glass of milk I'll be taking my meds with tomorrow morning so they don't chew up my stomach, and for the water I'll be sipping throughout the day because of those drugs' suck-every-drop-of-water-out-of-your-body side effects. But, really, I'm pretty sure you don't want to have to deal with me if I'm both starving AND unmedicated. Not a positive way to close or open this year's book, I'm thinking.

In any case, I'm sorry. Both in advance, and in retrospect.

Yours in atonement,

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