We were wronged... Things were said to us that no one should ever hear - especially in your own home. He wasn't himself that day and previous strong ties were severed. As result, I said things that I should not have ever uttered.
We allowed time (some 13 months) pass. Old wounds left untreated will never heal. Sarah saw him about two months ago, and apologies were exchange. As were hugs. Ice broken.
It wasn't until today that we ran into each other while in town. He was arriving as I was leaving. Eye contact was made, but I could have easily drove away. Rather, I pulled my truck right in front of his car. He approached my window, but he was a different person. His eyes were bright. His steps were sure and direct. I was see a new person and, at same time, an old friend. We only spoke for a couple of minutes, but the word said were needed and meaningful.
They started with "I'm sorry" and ended with "I love ya" / "I love ya, too".
from Wiki: Bury the hatchet is an American English colloquialism meaning "to make peace." The phrase is an allusion to the figurative or literal practice of putting away the tomahawk at the cessation of hostilities among or by Native Americans in the Eastern United States, specifically concerning the formation of the Iroquois Confederacy and in Iroquois custom in general. Weapons were to be buried or otherwise cached in time of peace.
This afternoon, I felt like it wasn't a small hatchet that was buried. By rather, a large battle ax was abandoned...
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