Somebody ticks me off and boom, they’re off my radar. The offender’s crime doesn’t have to be that awful. Just awful enough for me to be too cowardly to confront them. (I’ve no problem with the big stuff. Call me Sheena-Queen of the Jungle when a bully needs thwamping. But standing up for myself on the little things? That’s been near impossible since childhood.)
Being human means being imperfect; I know. Yet the gavel in my head slams in judgment and the guilty party is ignored. No facing their accuser. No last words. They don’t even know there was a trial.
Crazy, right? How many times have I lived through this scenario? Hundreds?
Weeks ago, Friend made a mistake and didn’t own up. She shrugged it off, in fact. Reasonable for me to be ticked, but hey, we’re all human. Yet I didn’t let it go. I ignored her.
Friend’s husband, who is running for office, has a big yellow sign in my front yard. (Don’t you just love those beauties?) The storm we had the other day blew it apart. Instead of fixing it, I put it behind a wicker chair by the front door and kind of forgot about it, kind of been feeling guilty about it, especially since Friend reached out and left another voice mail yesterday, and sent another email last night.
I ignored both.
Then this afternoon the doorbell rang. I thought, “Crap. I bet that’s Friend. She’s gonna see the sign by the door. What if she thinks I took it down on purpose. Crap. I’ll make believe I’m not home and maybe she’ll go away and I can sneak out there and fix it after she leaves.”
Minutes tick by. Bell rings again. Crap.
A big girl would have answered the door. Big-Baby tip-toes to the front window. Should I peek through the curtains drawn against 97+ degrees of sweltering heat? Will she see the blind move? That’s when I hear a tap-tap-taping on the porch slider at the back of the house, opposite the front window. Gasp. There’s Sister, who is ill, bent over in said 97 degree heat, scratching her head at her lunatic sister.
So tonight I listened to Friend’s voicemail, read her email, and emailed her back. Explained my feelings in plain words and asked her not to take my silence personally. No hard feelings. Life happens. I told her I’ll call next week.
I really hope I do.