9

           January 5, 1996

Dear Auset,

If only words could heal, I’d say I’m sorry in an instant.   I know I was in the wrong and I admit it, but I didn’t know that back then.  Back then, I was drinking, I was an . . . No, let me rephrase that, I am an alcoholic.   I’m working the twelve steps of Alcoholism and I’m up to step nine, which is:  “Made direct amends to such people whenever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.”   And see, that’s part of the reason I didn’t make amends, because I thought it would hurt you more.  

      But that was before I had a sponsor or, that’s still not right.   See, I tried being my own sponsor.  And it’s like an attorney who represents himself has an idiot as a client.   It was the same except not an attorney, a sponsor.   I took an inventory.   Like I was mad at you for my fuck-ups.   I never took responsibility, but I am now.   I’m saying I’m sorry.   Look, I know I’ve said ‘I’m sorry’ a billion times before and you’re probably not going to believe me this time, but I’m saying I’m sorry, to clean up my side of the street.   I know I need to make living amends, too.  

     Maybe if I go over the inventory, while I’m making amends, it’ll go better.   We’re identical twins.   I was always mistaken for you and . . . You know that already.   But, you were smarter than I was.   But, it sounds like I’m blaming you and I’m not.   I’m trying to explain it without coloring it and I’m not good at that.  

    I remember all the times you got blamed for me at school, home, work, etc.   Once, I stole your school ID and switched it with mine, so you would get the detentions instead of me.  I’m sorry.   So, I’m making my amends one at a time and that was the first one.   And I forgot.   The reason I’m making these amends via snail mail.   Why not call you, send you an email, or take you out to eat to make these amends?   It’s because I was afraid.  I know.   How mature of me.   But, it isn’t that I was afraid of making amends face to face, it’s I was afraid you wouldn’t answer your phone, you’d put my emails in a spam folder, you’d cuss me out (which I deserve), but you wouldn’t listen to me or understand.   I know you might throw this in the trash, but I’m praying to my Higher Power, who I call, God, that you won’t.   I also put in a fake/weird return address and hand wrote this.   Then, you wouldn’t think it was spam/junk mail.  But, you may have already thrown this out.   “Ce La Ve, Ce La Mar, Ce De Maj.”.  

      See, I went to a shrink.   I know.   When have I ever been willing to admit I need help?   I can do anything, fix anything, and all that other bullshit I used to believe.  

    Maybe I’m going in the wrong order.   Maybe I need to start from the mistakes I’ve made more recent.   What do you think?   Right, you can’t answer unless I include an SASE.  

     But there were times when you hurt me, too.   Like when. . . I forgot, it isn’t me taking your inventory and apologizing for you to me.   I have to clean my side of the street.  “Rule 62”.  

      So, I’ll do both; forward and backwards, or start in the middle.   I’m sorry I’m scatterbrained.   I’m sorry Mom and Dad let me go to college instead of you.   Even though I wasn’t . . . Forgot.  My amends for me, not for others.   I’m sorry that because of me, you didn’t get to go to college.   I’m sorry we had to share clothing, toys, etc because we are twins.   I’m sorry I picked on you at school instead of standing up for you the way you always stood up for me.   I’m sorry I stole your money to buy alcohol and drugs.  

     I’m sorry for all the times I lied to you.   I’m sorry for saying sorry all the time.   You always told me actions speak louder than words.   Let me know what action I need to take, even if it means us not talking anymore.  

    They have prayers in AA.   The serenity prayer, but the abridged version, the “Third Step Prayer” the “Seventh Step Prayer,” etc.   I say the morning prayer and evening prayer every day now, too, every day.   I call up my sponsor, too.   Sorry, this is supposed to be about me apologizing, not explaining away my problems.   Not about the acronyms.   Things like “S.O.B.E.R. stands for son-of-a-bitch, everything’s real”.  

       So, what are your thoughts?   What am I missing?   What else do I need to make amends for?   My sponsor told me to leave out certain amends, because she thought they were irrelevant.   Things like . . . Sorry.   My amends to you.  

      But, I don’t know how to know if you’ve accepted my apologies.   You could write me back, email me, text me, but I won’t even know if you’ve opened this letter or if you discovered it was from me and threw this and the SASE out.   If you did read it, please contact me.   Even if it just says, “Yes,” or “No,” or something else.   But, answer me.   I could send a registered letter, but you’re already pissed at me and thought that might piss you off even more.   The U S P S delivers.  

       Now, if you’ll pardon the trite remark, I’ll be on pins and needles, waiting for your response, even though I recognize you may not respond.   Just, I can’t reverse time.  Wish I could.  I’m also worried I forgot an amends and maybe I should wait a week before I send this.   But, maybe I’m postponing the inevitable.  It’s 5 minutes from here, or I could just put it in my mailbox and put the flag up.   Need to remember to be humble or learn to eat humble pie.   Need to put others, like you, first and not me.  

    The what-ifs keep swimming in my head.   What if . . . Again, need to clean up my side of the street and let go.  Let the letter go out.  Anyway, I’m sorry.   From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry.   Whether you accept it or not, I’m sorry.  

Love,

Jane

W/B or don’t.   It’s up to you.  You always made the right decision and I trust your judgment.