There is some part of human nature that encourages people to make amends. We all make mistakes – however much we don’t like that fact – and it makes us feel better if we can put them right. Particularly sizeable ones.
Or, if that’s not possible, we want to do something to make up for the initial errors. In other words, to make amends.
What is interesting is how we sometimes try to make up for former less-than-desirable behaviour with one person (or more) by working very hard to do better for a new person with whom we have the same or similar relationship.
This might be called making amends by proxy, but that sounds too much like legal jargon. You understand what I mean.
I think it is generally a good thing to do, but there can be considerable collateral damage along the way.
Second Marriages
Probably the example of this that comes to mind to most people are second marriages. I am no great expert on second marriages, having had only one marriage in the course of my long life, but the pattern is well known.
A common scenario is the couple who marry when they are very young. The man (but it could easily be the woman) is heavily engaged in furthering his career and pays insufficient attention to his wife and children. Too often, they fall out of love and divorce.
Some time after, the man re-marries and is determined not to make the mistakes that led to the downfall of the first marriage. He may, of course, make other mistakes entirely, but the intention is clear.
Thus, he makes a much greater effort to help his new wife and takes a more active role in bringing up his new children.
This change in attitude is doubtless due in part to increased maturity arising from greater age and experience, not to mention the differing personalities of the individual partners.
But I suspect there is also an element of making amends, consciously or unconsciously, for his past behaviour. We all want to feel good about ourselves and this is one way of soothing old wounds.
All the benefit of the new behaviour goes to the new wife and family, of course, with little benefit at all to those left behind. Indeed, it is likely to be the source of enormous anger for the first wife if she becomes aware of the care and attention given to the second family.
“Why wasn’t he like this with us?” she very reasonably laments. And the children undoubtedly have their own views, too.
It is an old story, told inter alia in the movie “The First Wives Club”.
Oh dear, such complex outcomes from people following their very natural emotions.
Grandmothers
A much less frequently noted parallel can be seen in my generation, namely with grandmothers. Probably grandfathers, too, but let’s keep to the women – if only to even up the score.
This one is more personal. I know of what I speak. From both sides.
A woman marries and has children in the very years of her life when her career also needs nourishing. She is highly stretched in every direction. She wants to give her children all the attention they need, but is inevitably caught between their needs and those of her paid occupation. Not to mention those of her husband and herself.
Much has been written over the years about the difficulties of ‘having it all’. We know that something or someone suffers and it is, not infrequently, the children. And career-driven mothers tend to know this and blame themselves. Big time. While it is happening and subsequently.
Many years later, the same woman finds herself with new grandchildren. Her own situation has changed greatly. She is much less likely to be climbing a career ladder if she is still working at all.
And she has the time (and maturity) to focus properly on the children and realises how much fun it is to be with them. Perhaps her son or daughter lives nearby and has actually asked for regular help with childcare.
The surprise to everyone – but particularly to the woman herself – is that she becomes a much more hands-on grandmother than she ever was a mother. The relationship with grandchildren is in any case often much easier for a whole lot of reasons.
And again, whether consciously or unconsciously, she sees this as a wonderful opportunity to make up for the previous shortfalls in the time and attention given to her own children.
This was one of many themes in discussions held with a variety of grandmothers for a book I wrote on grandmother’s lives.
Each had their own story, but many felt that they had not been an especially good or attentive mother. There are so many ways to fail as a mother and we tend to be good at noticing them, whether or not we blame ourselves for the situation.
But the grandmothers readily noticed that the new relationship with their grandchildren was a perfect opportunity to make amends. And it helped them to feel better about themselves.
Again, all this may be good for the grandmother and her grandchildren, but her children may well be resentful that they did not benefit in the same way. Even where it is their own children who gain the attention, there may still be lingering discontent.
Oh dear, complexities all over again.
So what should we do?
I am not a therapist or counsellor and I am happy to say that this is not an advice column – just an opportunity to explore ideas that arise in the course of noticing human behaviour, including my own.
Human relations are complicated enough in the day-to-day living of them that we don’t need to be adding any anger and resentment, never mind self-blame. But nor can we help our emotions. They come on us all the time, wanted or unwanted.
I suspect that the more we can come to terms with the frailties and inadequacies of those around us – whether parents, partners, former partners or anyone else – the more contented we will be. And this also goes for blaming ourselves.
In other words, it might look like it would be ‘kind’ for us to forgive those first husbands and wives – not to mention those parents – who were less than perfect and didn’t do for us what we would have liked. But in all truth, it would more importantly be best for ourselves, letting us move on.
We grow older, we mature, we become better – and wiser – people. So it goes.
Over to you: There are three parties in the matter of making amends in this way: the person who feels the need to make amends, the person or people who were hurt in the first place and the person or people who benefitted in the long run. Do you recognise. yourself or anyone you know in any of these roles?
A version of this post was first published on SixtyandMe.com
It took place in a hospital room. "I regret that I neglected you for the business," my mother confesses. I am drawn speechless. Yes, I grew up in a home attached to a business, and, yes, when the phone rang my stay-at-home-is-the-workplace mom had to answer it. Letting the phone go unanswered meant potentially losing income. But I felt no loss. That was the way it was and all that I knew.
This took place many years ago, I was a young mom of a four year old. I stayed at home with him, and my workplace was away on evenings and weekends. It was likely at that same time when the two of us played games together that it become real to me that I had no memories of playing with my mom. I had an older sister, and when she was in school, I had my own imagination, time to dance and draw, and a fenced in yard. My mother was there to teach me to stitch and sew, and those are still my creative outlet today, even using generations of handed down needles and fabrics.
Come to be the next generation, I understand the loving ease of being a grandmother. When long overnight stays time for more care, I can channel back to the past and ask how did I get the cooking and cleaning done with a child? Where was the energy for spousal relationships or self-fulfillment? Is this why my house wasn't as tidy, and why is my insurance card still sitting here four days later?
I have no lasting regrets or need to make amends to my children. I never held my mother guilty for lack of love and care. We balance the time and care with the mastery and framework of the present moment. Only with the perspective of time do we notice the flaws, the missing brushstrokes that left the canvas bare. As for my part, the art is still as beautiful as it could be.
I’ve never looked at making amends through this lens, but wow, did it land. In 2020, my 30ish year marriage came to an end. Forgiving him -and even more so, forgiving myself-has been a big part of my recovery work. At the time, I believed I’d made amends to my ex through apologies mostly, but also through actions. It was too late however, in part due to a lot of ambivalence, on both of our parts. In my current committed relationship, i definitely see myself “making amends” to my new partner. I can’t make them to my former one. So bittersweet, but forward is the only way to move. Thank you so much for this thoughtful wisdom.