Rant #3,122: Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Word

My birthday celebration this past Friday and on the weekend was very low key, which was fine with me.

After having a big shebang for my 65th birthday last year, my 66th birthday was kind of quiet, which I didn’t mind at all.

I received a few gifts and we had cake—black-and-white cookies, a delicacy that in my mind, can’t be beat—and everything went pretty well for me on April 28.

April 29 was another story.

On Saturday, we planned an extra day of celebration, to include someone who is near and dear to me and that person’s significant other.

We ordered in a couple of pizzas and salad from the local pizzeria, had a cake all ready to go, and it was something that I was really looking forward to, as I don’t see this particular person very often.

My son and I were out of the house from late morning to mid-afternoon, as he had his bowling league to attend to.

He bowled his average on Saturday, and his team somehow eked out a total sweep of the other team even though really no one bowled that great on the lane. They are still in first place with about five sessions to go.

Anyway, when we were in transit, and unbeknownst to me, this person, who I was looking forward to seeing, texted me and told me, about two hours before they were scheduled to be with us, that they were not coming.

They used the excuse of the weather, but by that time, and by the time I saw the text, the rain and wind had pretty much subsided in my neck of the woods.

It wasn’t pretty, but it was drivable weather, but they backed out of the day.

And they did it via text, which is not the right thing to do, not the right thing to do at all.

I could see if they had done this on Friday night.

I would have been disappointed, but at least they would have given us some time to pivot.

Texting us the news in the middle of the afternoon of the day you are supposed to be with us … not a good, sensible move at all.

Something like that deserves a phone call, not a text, which is the impersonal way to handle the situation, but, of course, also avoids speaking to me directly … and you just know that I would have told the person plenty if I was “face-to-face” with this person the phone.

What’s more, we had already ordered the food, and if know the world of “Pizza 2023,” you know that it ain’t cheap.

So we were stuck with the food, and the cost of the food, and since it was about twice what I normally spend on a Saturday for dinner, I wasn’t too happy about all of this.

But I was even more unhappy with the person in question.

This person showed no common sense in doing this to me—yes, “to me,” because that is who it hurt the most—and the person really showed a lack of common sense by doing so without any fallback, meaning “How are you going to make this up to me?”

Again, I rarely see this person, who I truly love, at all—maybe two of three times a year—and that is the person’s doing, not mine, as I would love to see the person more, much more, but the person has put a wall between us that seems to grow taller and more dense each and every year.

I left the person with the following message: “The ball is in your court,” and I hope that the person knows what that expression means … it is up to the person to rectify this wrong.

But I have yet to hear from this person about the next plan of action.

I think what hurts me most is that the person never used the word “sorry” in any explanation the person had for pulling out of our engagement.

I have noticed that in the past, on other occasions, the person never uses the word “sorry,” which seems to be a difficult word for the person to use.

Whatever happened, and even without the person and her significant other there, we still had a good time on Saturday evening.

My wife, my son and my mother and I ate the food we had ordered in—the pizza was excellent—and we each had a little cake afterwards—you simply cannot beat Carvel ice cream cake, as it is the best of its kind there is.

Sure, I was frustrated, as this seems to be a never-ending saga with this person, but I have to say that I made the best of it.

The person and her significant other are big hockey fans, and I am sure that they enjoyed the New York Rangers’ win that night in the playoffs.

But I do feel that I am more important—in particular, to the person in question—and while they were watching the puck fly on the ice, I was saying the word “puck” with a different first letter, as I feel that I was screwed again by this person that I love so much.

Life goes on.