I'm sorry | Teen Ink

I'm sorry

June 14, 2022
By Elizabeth4334 SILVER, Irvine, California
Elizabeth4334 SILVER, Irvine, California
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
It's depressing to ruminate about the doors that closed yesterday. It's liberating to look for the doors that are open today.


It was 10:55pm. Mere minutes ago, I was at the LAX airport seeing my grandma off. I remember giving her a numb hug that felt strangely foreign–I could feel every fiber in my body screaming at me to do something, anything. But I didn’t. As her fragile figure disappeared behind the double barred security doors, I just stood there, frozen and helplessly wrestling with my guilty conscience. Sitting in the backseat of the car on my way home now, I realized I had failed to bring myself to say two simple words. The scene from yesterday rolled through my head, and pain sharp as a knife sliced through my heart… 


My mind reluctantly jerked itself out of oblivion amidst the rhythmic buzzing of the alarm clock. My half closed eyelids struggled to pinpoint the time. 8:20. Oh shoot. I bolted upright, and, scrambling out of bed in bare pajamas, inhaled sharply in the biting cold. Flinging open the drawers, I frantically searched for my black leather jeans. I swear I put it in here! Where in the world did it go? Seeing that my attempts were to no avail, I shouted for my grandma to come. Like magic, she hustled into my room as soon as the words left my mouth as if she'd been waiting right outside the door this whole time. 

“Do you need something?” My grandma inquired, her face the definition of concern.

“Yes!” I snapped, my temper rapidly fraying, “have you seen my black leather jeans? I thought I put it on top of the drawer, but it’s not there anymore.”

“Oh!” My grandma exclaimed, “they are right next to your pillow. I put them there last night.”

“WHAT?” I gasped in disbelief. My eyes shot across the room, and there they were: my jeans, folded neatly by the pillow. 

Turning back to my grandma, my brows furrowed as I examined the age-worn, wrinkly face in front of me. “Why on earth would you do that?” I demanded, my voice climbing in pitch by the second, “you could’ve at least told me that you put them somewhere else. Thanks to you, now I’m definitely going to be late to school. My god, what were you thinking?” I was practically screaming by the end. I started trembling uncontrollably and I couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or just pure anger. I only knew that I was mad at my grandma, and that yelling made me feel better.

My grandma stood still, her five foot frame looking small and fragile next to me. Taking her silence as an affirmation of my accusations, I unfroze my body and stormed downstairs in full fury. 

I spent the whole day at school in agitation. I couldn’t quite pinpoint why, but I knew that something was off. My friends’ laughter ringed like screeching sirens in my ears, and my teachers’ instructions flowed in one ear and out the other. Suppressing the nagging that persisted until I got back home again, I hurried into my bedroom.

Closing the door lightly behind me, I turned around and my eyes immediately fell upon a yellow sticky note on the desk. Frowning slightly, I picked it up and read the neat, black words sprawled in ink “Dear Lisa, I am so sorry. I came in yesterday after you fell asleep, and I thought I would put them there so you don’t have to get out of bed in this horrible weather this morning. I hope you will forgive me. Love, grandma.”


After my grandma returned to China, I didn’t get to see her again for another two years due to the onslaught of COVID-19. Though I have apologized to her through texts and video calls numerous times since then and she–being the loveliest, most pure-hearted human on this planet–brushed it off as if it were nothing, my behavior on that chilly morning will remain as one of the biggest regrets in my life. Because what if COVID-19 snatched her away from me like it did to so many others? And what if I had to live with the fact that that was our last interaction ever?

We never realize how truly lucky we are until we aren’t. Thus, it is imperative that we keep in mind not to take anything for granted in everything that we do–however hard this may be–in order to minimize regrets.


The author's comments:

This is a short, powerful story about love, family and relationships that had a huge impact on me and my growth as an individual. I am sorry that it unfolded the way it did, but I am glad I learned my lesson then rather than later. 


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