Dear Sylvia: I had been proactive and given Charity my old tux to be refitted. You asked me if I had spoken to her about it. I saw the words shoot out of my mouth. I was not incompetent. I was not stupid. I had taken charge. I was proud of myself. My reply was hot and mean. I meant to hurt you, and I did.
In response to my anger, you calmly walked out of the closet with my old tux in hand. I had sent my new suit to Atlanta. It was apparent that this Grayling boy did not know the difference between a tux and a suit.
Last July, I inadvertently mixed up my Round-Up and Malathion sprayers. I proceeded to spray my prize roses, hollyhock and Althea with herbicide. I realized my mistake too late. Three weeks later, you commented on how the Althea flowers were deformed. I was forced to give up my pride and admit what a dumb thing I had done and how stupid I felt. After all, Forrest Gump stated that stupid is as stupid does, didn’t he? With nine years of university training in botany, I had made a fundamental mistake. I failed to read the sprayer label.
Once again, in the case of the tux, I resorted to the old habit of defending my mistakes when I feel stupid. It would have been one thing not to admit my mistake, but I went on to attack with intent to hurt. True to Mom’s dictum, my pride preceded my fall.
In my seventies, I still really do want to be a better man than I was in my twenties. I wish I could unlearn old habits more quickly. You deescalated the tux conversation by not responding in kind. Thank you. We decided that “stupid” is most often a feeling; well, most often. Will you please continue to help me to more quickly admit when I am wrong and to ask forgiveness if I hurt you? I still want to unlearn old habits and to learn new ones that allow me to show you better how much I love you.
Love you – Eddie Bert
