Our society welcomes second chances. Public figures, in particular, fall from great heights, and we applaud their attempts to rehabilitate, however meager. I laughed when Sean Spicer wheeled out his fake podium at the recent Emmy Awards. Shortly thereafter, Spicer appeared on talk shows, joking with the very individuals he had trashed for months. I admired his attempts to poke fun at himself and move forward. But my husband, Michael, was disgusted. Spicer caused tremendous damage while working for President Trump. Where was his apology? And I realized Michael was correct. Jewish teaching encourages forgiveness if there is sincere repentance. Consider the Israelites and The Golden Calf. King David and Bathsheba. Leona and Michael.
Leona and Michael?
My mother-in-law, Leona, was a difficult individual. Because of personal unhappiness, she believed relationships with her children (and their spouses) were one-way streets. The giving, interest and concern had to be in her direction. Leona’s life revolved around luncheons and bridge games. She was not a cruel person; but she was indifferent to her family. Michael and I begged Leona on several occasions to—at the very least—take an interest in our children. Leona bristled and declared she was “busy with friends.” I suppose she deserved an “A” for honesty.
By the time Michael was around forty, he realized struggling to win her affection and break the pattern of indifference were doomed to fail. Nor would anger and frustration improve the situation. He decided to behave kindly but expect nothing in return. He would welcome her involvement but no longer ask for it. I supported his decision for I was tired of trying to integrate Leona into our lives only to be constantly rejected.
Some years later, Leona had a change of heart. Perhaps she felt she was running out of time or was overwhelmed by loneliness as more of her friends passed away. Perhaps with age comes wisdom. Whatever the reason, Leona expressed regret she pushed us away when all we wanted was her love. She castigated herself for valuing the wrong things throughout her life. Now she was desperate to create a solid connection with us and our children. And Leona asked: “But is it too late?”
Michael’s response was: “Mom, it’s never too late.” He was clear we didn’t need to re-live the past. But we could make the most of now.
And we did. I followed Michael’s example and allowed my heart to open. Our children observed this behavior and did the same. We all treasure the interactions we had with Leona during the last years of her life. She peeled away her anger and regret like the layers of an onion and exposed humor, insight and a caring soul. She enriched the lives of my entire family.
Asking for forgiveness—and giving forgiveness—are not signs of weakness. Leona had courage to expose her vulnerability and request a fresh start. My husband, Michael, was also brave to become emotionally involved when he ran the risk of being hurt all over again.
During the High Holy Days, we reflect on our behavior of the past year and ask for forgiveness. We resolve to do better. But as the weather changes and trees burst with Fall color, the piety and luster of the High Holy Days often fades. By the time Thanksgiving rolls around, we rejoice in full stomachs like squirrels storing up for the winter. We are thankful but often believe we have earned a vacation from improving ourselves and our relationships.
But rebuilding a relationship can happen no matter the time of year or one’s stage in life. Our Jewish faith recognizes we are always works in progress. We can’t alter the past, but we can change the results of that past. Jews understand the importance of Tikkun Olam (repairing the world). Why can’t we appreciate the value of repairing a relationship? Second chances shouldn’t only belong to politicians/athletes/actors.
No “one size fits all” method can solve every relationship difficulty. And sometimes we need to maintain a wall to keep out dangerous people. But true toxicity aside, we should not turn our backs on an opportunity to rebuild if the other person approaches with a loving spirit. It is never too late to offer an apology or forgiveness. My husband, Michael, misses the years he and Leona didn’t share, but feels truly blessed by what they created together.
We gave Leona the gift of a second chance. But Leona’s sincere apology and desire to become part of our lives was her gift to us.
I’m glad we accepted it.
This article was published in The Jewish Advocate on October 27, 2017.
