This is an open letter to Margaret, who was my Wife for 42 years; my son Neal, my son Brian; my now deceased sister Rita, my brothers Lee and Greg; my little sister Debbie. This is to address those whose lives I was once a part of, but no longer am.
I cannot go back and be what I never was supposed to be. I do not expect forgiveness nor do I want sympathy. But as I watch my high school friends die; as the list of deceased classmates at reunions grows longer every year; I can’t help but wonder, which reunion will display the death of Vance Raab? Who will be glad and who will care? What does it mean to “be sorry” for things not turning out the way you wanted them to? How can I explain the “reasons” behind my actions that seems to have revulsed so many? Do I even know? Was it just carelessness and selfishness on my part? The pain of being shut out is indescribable; and I now understand drug and alcohol abuse, and suicide. However; my freedom is now more important to me and more fulfilling than the apparently meaningless, superficial relationships that I used to think were important in this life. So, I Am sorry to have thought that I could give up my self and make your lives great. My mistake! But when you lie to me, please don’t broadcast the truth on the internet where my friends can rub my nose in it! Please forgive me.
It is written that we are here to learn lessons. I ask; what lessons have I learned, so as not to repeat them in my next life? Do I want a repeat of this life; again? How many lifetimes has it taken me to learn these lessons? In trying to be something I was not intended to be, and doing what I thought would work, it is evident that I should have run. People may say they forgive you, but; they never forget. It may smolder for decades, until it consumes you. Bright smiles may hide the pain, but not relieve it. I’m sorry.
Why does someone like my mother put up with my father for over 60 years? I never saw her so happy as when my father died; a totally changed woman! So I really have to thank my younger son and my ex-wife for pulling the trigger that I was too scared to touch! What a gift to be free of their contentious aspirations! I totally understand their frustration with me, and am glad to know they are enjoying the fruits of my years of labor that I have given them. I have less, to be sure, and miss some of the neat things that money bought. But in return I have the wondrous yearn of a Me of my own design! Not beholding to convention or ruled by the stars, not of what someone else expects me to do for them, or society. True true Freedom! Forgive me, I’m sorry.