Unforgiven

It took place exactly one year ago today. It was a bad time for my family--my 6-month-old daughter was in the hospital with a sudden respiratory problem that scared me to death. She was in a large, thickly-painted, white institutional baby crib--there is nothing as depressing as that crib--it looked like prison bars with a child inside, hooked up to flashing and beeping monitors. To add to the despair of the situation, my wife had just had emergency surgery and was also hospitalized, so I was handling this crisis alone.

I received a call from one of my co-workers, named Mike B. We had been in a disagreement, mostly because his manager had badly handled a counseling session--instead of addressing issues that needed to be solved, the manager had told him that I had mentioned a couple of problems with his performance at demonstrations.

The fact is that we had had 10 poor demonstrations in a row, and nothing I told Mike B. was working (he was new, and I had 5 years' experience). The manager had called me and asked my opinion of his performance, mainly because we had not sold one thing together in a 10-month period (supposed to sell one system per month). I told the manager, "We don't seem to be communicating properly--maybe you should come to our next demonstration and evaluate his preparation and knowledge." I thought I was taking the high road--after talking to his manager, I called Mike B. and told him exactly what I said to him, adding "I think it would be helpful to get another opinion on how we should go about doing things." The fact is, I knew he was flawed and arrogant and too proud to accept advice.

The manager took that info, didn't come to the next (failed) demonstration, and told Mike B. "(Mike-me) tells me that you are unprepared and don't know what you're doing!" Great management technique, huh? Mike B. was furious, of course--understandably so.

So at this terrible time, Mike B. called me and asked to pick up a computer which I had in my car--I hadn't unloaded it due to the family emergency so it was in the back of my car out in the hospital parking lot. I hadn't slept in 48 hours. Mike B. insisted on coming and picking it up immediately. He didn't ask about my daughter, my wife, anything.

When he arrived at the hospital, he walked in the room, sullen and pouting. He didn't even look over at my daughter in the crib. Instead, he held out his hand for my car keys and asked "Where'd you park?" I ignored the anger that welled up inside me and handed them over, rolling my eyes at him instead at his oblivious actions. I told him where it was.

When he returned, he wordlessly handed the keys to me, turned around, and walked out. I can't help but assume that this was purposefully done to slight me by not giving importance to my family emergency.

God help me lose this bitterness and wrath that I have in me. I want to kick the hell out of this jerk every time I see him.

I guess he wins--he was trying to offend me, and it's one year later and I still become upset by the situation. Mike B. was reassigned to another person's territory, and had to move away--he barely speaks to me.

But something inside me wants to be a better man and forgive him for his simple-minded selfishness. If it was an offense against me, instead of directed at an innocent 6-month old child, I could easily do it. Is it pride? Paternal instinct? I think it would be impossible, even if I thought someone had wronged me, for me to be so horrible to them.

Can I forgive him?