I’m Sorry
For words that are difficult to say, sincerity is required
By Ron Ciancutti
A friend of mine used to spend a lot of time with his father, and I always admired their relationship. They spoke highly of each other, and rarely was a story told by either that didn’t include some reference to how the other reacted. They were the type of father/son team that didn’t need to go fishing or golfing to enjoy each other’s company. They talked sports, world events, and family business with like-minded ease. Both excelled in baseball in their youth, and due to their love of the game, they frequently took trips to Major League spring training in Florida and Arizona.
© Can Stock Photo / monkeybusiness
As with most friends and family, certain topics had a flashpoint—perhaps a favor that hadn’t been paid back, an opinion that was never uttered but always assumed, or an issue just below the surface that was better left alone. It was on one of those Florida trips where that hazardous territory was accidentally violated, and an argument between father and son erupted at breakfast and was stifled only because they were in public. But the damage had been done, and my friend left the restaurant, got on a plane, and returned home alone.
When his father returned the next day, there was no telling which one was angrier, and neither was about to relent and extend a hand in peace. And so it went. Days turned into months; months turned into years. My buddy married and raised a family with two sons who both exceeded their father’s and grandfather’s skills in athletics, but Grandpa never attended a game nor was he ever invited to do so. After five more years passed, Grandpa entered a hospital with a life-threatening illness, and no one in the family could confirm or deny if the son made any gesture during that time. Even after the father’s recovery, nothing had changed. Everyone assumed the two never touched base.
I did reach out to each of them on various occasions over the years to craft a truce, but both respectfully asked me to stay out of it. I followed their request, which was difficult to do.
Sincerity Required
I do have a habit of oversimplifying things and for trying to take a shortcut by proposing a win/win solution, but I truly believe that two words can break open the bottleneck of an original misunderstanding.
“I’m sorry.”
Followed by, “I never meant for things to go this far.”
I timed the statement. It takes less than a second to say, yet it requires a monumental effort because one really has to mean it. One can’t just mumble it while looking at the floor and kicking the dirt. Sincerity is absolutely required.
“Thanks for saying that. I’m sorry, too.”
I can honestly say that the relief that floods in as soon as those words are said is worth the risk because usually, by the time the statements are made, both parties had been anticipating that moment for a long time. Someone had to break the ice.
© Can Stock Photo / dolgachov
No Time For Drama
What about for married couples? I recall my wife and me loading up some good ammunition for looming fights, but they never happened. You know why? We didn’t have time to argue. We were raising five kids, so working together was the only way to keep the machine running. But what a blessing that preoccupation was. As the day passed and we fell into bed exhausted, whatever petty disagreement we originally intended seemed like too much work to even bring up. So, we let it go, realizing that was what we should have done in the first place. All of us can probably admit we add a lot of drama unnecessarily, the passive/aggressive, guilt-ridden, martyr stuff:
“Oh, you already ate dinner with the kids. I thought you’d wait for me.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you were grabbing a sandwich on the way home.”
“I never had time, I worked so late. It’s OK, I’ll make a peanut-butter sandwich or something.”
“Oh, geez. I’m so sorry.”
“No, no, no, really. It’s OK” (said with a weak smile, perhaps adding a slight limp through the room).
Bite Your Tongue
Oh, you thought we were the only ones who did that? Please. Most family- or friend-fighting should be ended as soon as possible because something said in the heat of the battle can’t be taken back. That is fighting dirty and often includes name-calling or referencing a previous, embarrassing event:
“Oh, really, Mr. 5% Tipper?”
“I always tip 10% or more!”
“Oh, my, 10%! Stick a crowbar in that wallet once in a while and give people a decent 20%!
Now, all of those insults are going to come up in the next argument. Don’t say stuff like that. It sets a bad precedent, and then people start keeping count. (“I think I owe her three insults and a sarcastic eye roll.”)
I know for a fact I rarely mean half of what I say in an argument. If I can hold my tongue and get to the “sorry” part earlier, I can save myself a lot of backtracking and unnecessary explaining.
Take a breath, count to 10, and then, if possible, put yourself in the other person’s shoes. It can make a world of difference. When that inner voice says something like, “Hold on. If I had a flat tire in a rainstorm and couldn’t get home from work for two hours, I’d be pretty snappy when I came through the door, too. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked if dinner was going to be late. In fact, I should put dinner together myself.”
“Hey, honey, I’m sorry. Tell me about your day.”
(Less than two seconds.)
Ron Ciancutti worked in the parks and recreation industry since he was 16 years old, covering everything from maintenance, operations, engineering, surveying, park management, design, planning, recreation, and finance. He is now retired. He holds a B.S. in Business from Bowling Green State University and an M.B.A. from Baldwin Wallace University. He is not on Facebook, but he can be reached at ron@northstarpubs.com.