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My Dad Is Dead But I Still Want Him to Apologize
I’m not the only one who wishes they could hear ‘I’m sorry’
“Never apologize; it’s a sign of weakness,” is a phrase my father used on many occasions throughout my childhood. My little-kid brain associated this motto as simply a part of his vocabulary. A dadism I took as mere comic relief after my mini-mouse voice squeaked out an “I’m sorry” for stepping on his foot or spilling my milk at the dinner table.
As my early teens approached, I began apologizing for other things, such as when I accidentally dumped a brimming ashtray into his fresh coffee. The upward inflection of his words following yet another “I’m sorry” felt reassuring. Forgiving. However, the ashamed apologies I begged after he caught me and the neighbor girl setting fire to her homework in Great Smoky Mountains National Park were met with the same phrase I had been hearing for years, only this time his tone was less merciful.
Eventually, my apologies stopped. As I grew up, I began to learn what it meant to be a woman in a man’s world and realized my father was teaching a life lesson with the phrase. I now believe my dad meant, “You matter. Yell louder and take up space, because you are just as deserving as any man. Do not bow. Be fierce and sharp and capable and strong. Take care of yourself and your fellow…
