I stood at the front of the room and said the things people wanted to hear. That she was kind. That she was loved. That she is at peace.
What I did not say is that we had not spoken in three years. That the last thing I said to her was cruel and true. That I have been carrying both the cruelty and the truth ever since, and I do not know which one is heavier.
— Anonymous
A Reflection
Grief does not require a clean relationship. In fact, it rarely gets one.
The words you did not say at the funeral were not owed to the room. They are owed, perhaps, to yourself, on a quieter afternoon, with no audience.
You can love someone and have been unable to be near them. You can regret the cruelty without unsaying the truth. Both can live in you without cancelling each other out.
She is not waiting for your apology in the way the living wait. But you might be. And that conversation, with the part of you that still stands in that room, is one you are allowed to have, gently, for as long as it takes.