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