Why Apologizing for Past Neglect Is So Powerful

Apologizing for our mistakes is never easy. If the behavior we regret is linked to a painful parenting issue in the past, it is more difficult still. Still, the courage to do so can be transforming. The story of a woman I'll call Margaret will illustrate the point.

Margaret had a daughter, Eleanor, a single mother whose second child, Christian, died when he was 16 days old. He had never left the hospital. Margaret had been helpful in practical ways but she was absent at the emotional level. In true British fashion, she had a “no mess, no fuss” attitude toward life’s difficulties, and a long cultural tradition of “don’t fret, plod on.” She loved her daughter enormously, but she didn’t want Eleanor to get bogged down in grief. She also wanted to avoid her own deep sorrow.

Out of her wish to protect both Eleanor and herself, Margaret failed to express her pain or inquire how her daughter was doing with this profound loss. The few times she saw Eleanor crying or depressed, she said things like, “You have a son who needs you. Be strong for him.”

A decade later, Margaret’s co-worker and friend, Jorge, had a son who was born stillborn. His loss understandably brought up Margaret’s own buried feelings of grief about her grandson Christian and the life he never had. When she observed the tremendous outpouring of love that Jorge received, and the openhearted way that he embraced the caring that surrounded him, something shifted in Margaret. She asked herself for the first time if she had done well by her daughter in the way she had responded to Christian’s tragic death.

About a week later, a newspaper article about untimely loss appeared on the front page of their local paper. Much to her own surprise, Margaret revved up her courage and asked Eleanor if she’d read the piece. She also told Eleanor that she thought about Christian all the time. Margaret went on to say that she regretted never talking about her feelings because she didn’t know what to say and was afraid of making Eleanor feel worse. She said she was sorry that she had not made a space for them to talk about something so important, the saddest thing that had ever happened in their lives.

Eleanor’s initial response was predictable. “There’s nothing you could have done,” she said flatly. “It wasn’t something you could fix. Don’t worry about it.” Eleanor was very much her mother’s daughter.

Often the most interesting part of an apology is what happens later. Neither brought the subject up again, but Margaret told me that after the initial awkwardness passed she felt better about having spoken up. Months later, as the anniversary of Christian’s death was approaching, Margaret felt the desire to bring flowers to Christian’s grave. She hadn’t been there since the funeral. She casually mentioned this to Eleanor, who matter-of-factly replied that she planned to make the trip, and they could go together if Margaret wanted a ride.

Only on the ride to the cemetery did Margaret learn that Eleanor had been to the graveside twice a year for the past 10 years. As they stood by Christian’s small gravestone, Margaret suddenly started sobbing. This surge of emotion took her totally by surprise because she had never cried about Christian’s death, and hardly ever about anything else. More unexpected still, Eleanor put her arms around her mother and they cried together.

In Margaret’s case, her apology felt like a great risk. She had been raised in a family where cheerfulness was one of the few permissible emotions, and competence and independence (defined as not needing anybody) were next to godliness. Her apology required her to share vulnerability and take a big leap into the unknown. She had no role model from her past to look to as a guide, so pioneering a new path required great courage on her part.

It's hard to be the one to open a conversation about a painful issue from the past. Perhaps we don’t want to be intrusive, or we’re concerned about how our apology will be received and what would happen next. If the other person hasn’t brought the subject up we may assume that we shouldn’t either. Still, I encourage you to leave open the possibility of talking about our earlier behavior that we now regret. If the person we hurt or let down is a family member, the rewards of having hard conversations can be especially great.