Forgiveness is a funny thing… we all know it’s hard to forgive… but also sometimes, just as hard to ask forgiveness as well.
I remember as a child going over to my friend’s house playing in the family lounge room. I took her wedding barbie and she started chasing me for it. Things somehow got a little rough and she accidentally hit an antique cabinet which housed one of her Mom’s favourite figurines. Who was to blame we weren’t exactly sure. Of course she physically knocked over the figurine, a little Chinese Budha made from ivory… but I took her barbie doll and hence that’s what started the commotion in the first place. For a few minutes, we were in an impasse as to what to do. Were we going to try and find some glue to fix it up, blame the dog or fess up? In the end, she asked me if I could just tell her Mom that I did it.
I shrugged my shoulders and said yes.
When we were older, I asked her why she asked me to confess when we were equally to blame or if not, she was more at fault that I was.
“Because I knew you wouldn’t mind saying sorry.” she told me.
I guess, to a certain extent it’s true. It must be a family trait. One of the first things that bewildered my husband about my family was the number of fights we could have in one meal. The most he counted, or so he says, was four different topics over the course of one very long lunch. Not arguments – but blown out fights, with shouting and crying. Not really surprising when you have a family of six very very VERY stubborn and opinionated people. He said, when he thought that the topic had been resolved, he was surprised that a few minutes later a new issue was brought up.
But also, he was even more amazed at the ease at which we were willing to say sorry and the ease that we were willing to forgive.
In the Philippines, sometimes, they say this is a bad thing. People say you have a “pusong mamon”, or a soft heart. To some – as sign of weakness….
Call me naive but I personally like to think that I’m an eternal optimist. Anyway, how pleasant can life be if you can’t find it to forgive? After all, at some point in time don’t we all make mistakes? Further, as I’ve learned from past experiences – how awful to go through life thinking you’ve hurt someone and not being able to apologize for it?
Forgive the dramatics. It must have been the trip last week that’s brought about the introspection. One night, we were having dinner, we all must have been tired, hungry and cranky and some petty comment led to another and before we knew it, we were in the train station arguing. Can you imagine all of us ladies shouting at each other in front of so many strangers? I can laugh about it now but back then – it was serious stuff. So to cut the story short – it was all my fault. I said somethings to my Mom that I shouldn’t have. And I knew it. I knew I had to apologize but I didn’t know where to begin. Believe me, sometimes it’s just as hard to apologize as it is to accept it.
I kept thinking “okay, in the next two minutes, I will say sorry”… and then two minutes passed.
Then I thought “I will apologize when we are inside the train and sitting down”… and then we got on and sat down.
“I will apologize when we get off our stop”… but still I couldn’t.
I knew I was wrong but somehow I couldn’t find the courage to open my mouth and say sorry…
Until we reached the night market and then I said sorry.
She said something I will never forget. “It’s okay Trissa. I’m used to being a punching bag.” She said it… no malice… not to make me feel bad… but just the truth.
I tell you – I don’t think I could have felt more low.
But an hour later we were all back in the hotel room. Laughing at how my sister could have gotten so many blisters from walking. Oohing and aahing about our buys. All was forgiven.
So… what does this have to do the with delicious pillow like chocolate fritters that I made from Mario Batali’s cookbook? Nothing really… but I hope you will forgive me for it.
The recipe can be found here. The only things I have changed are
- I did not use the apricot jam
- I substituted pistachios for the hazelnuts