Only one person in my entire family apologized to me. It was my mother. Both my father and mother were messed up and either drank or were on drugs and sometimes both. They split up after I was born, (third youngest child) and my mother was found by police sleeping under a bridge with me at around 2 years after I was born. I was taken from her and given to my Dad's parents where I was for about 2 years and by then my parents had gotten back together and gone to t  70dc  he courts to regain custody which my Grandparents fought. Dad who I didn't know came and literally ripped me from my Grandpa's arms as I screamed, bawled and kicked. I got away from his grasp and ran into the house. What made the situation worse was that to this day I can remember my dad who I didn't know being very angry and abusive to my Grandfather who in my eyes was my dad. That's what terrified me. So I ran. My father drug me out from under the bed still screaming and crying. Fast forward to year later and the damage had been done. My mother was very abusive and tormented me every day with slapping and verbal abuse as well as terrifying me by pretending she would cut out my tongue and trying to convince me to kill myself and wouldn't it be lovely. Man, fuck that. By the time my parents separated again I was changed forever. My dad dropped me off at my Grandparents house and then left for years at a time with a few infrequent visits.  For the most part I was safe but my two older siblings were allowed to abuse me as well as a pervert uncle who raped my sister from the time she was four years old. I won't go into details but when she later told me of it I flashed back to that first time he did it and realized she was telling the truth.  Anyway, my Grandparents really did believe in spare the rod and spoil the child and the rod was never spared for any reason. I'll say, they thought they were doing the right thing but everything I know about psychology tells me different. When it's beatings on a regular basis and sometimes just because they are having a bad day and tired, that's just abuse. It's easy to see why my dad was the way he was and talks with my grandmother confirmed he had been roughly treated when growing up and this led to his bizarre behavior and outbursts I observed.  For the most part I tried to put the abuse by my birth mother behind me and it wasn't hard, I had plenty to deal with in the present growing up. Running away from beatings sometimes for days at a time became a habit for me until I ended up in a correctional institute in Lincoln Nebraska for a year. After I got out my Grandparents were very careful to never lay a hand on me. But eventually I had to have some real fights with my older brother that became bloody scenes worked out in various venues of the family home. By then I had developed a rage complex that in my mind was my secret weapon. When the rage would hit I didn't care about bleeding and pain and relished it.  Fast forward to a few months ago and almost all contact with my family has ceased as they realize I'm not taking even a tiny bit of shit off them in my middle age. I speak my mind exactly as I see it with no filter and it is painful to them hear how I view the family dynamics from my viewpoint. My mother I had assumed was long since dead and no one could even speak to me about her. They know better.  Then I get a call from a woman who claims she's a caregiver in a rest home and caring for my mother. My blood runs cold. I am just shocked. She was long dead and gone I thought. NO one bothered to tell me as I think they know this is one area in my life that's a no go zone. They gave up talking to me about her at all many years ago. For all I knew, the absence of talk about her meant I was right, she was dead. But reality hits hard, right? The care giver lets me send her some really angry rants about the abuse and how pissed I am my mother is still alive. I'm a proud son of a bitch and I owe it all to my bitch mother. Caregiver says she "wants to make it up to you" and that that sends me off on another rant. She wants to talk to me. I send back another rant. For days I was in turmoil. Then I get a message from the caregiver telling me my mother had confessed to every thing I said. Confessed to all the abuse and apologized. I remember the Lord's Prayer. Forgive our debtors even as we have been forgiven. Something like that. Well, most Christians are completely stupid on this and demand victims forgive people who are unrepentant. They want one standard for victims and another one for God who swears that without repentance there can be no forgiveness. What person has a right to demand one person forgive another for abuse they have not had to suffer and live through? After a couple days I respond that I forgive her but I can't bear to talk to her in person. It's too emotionally upsetting. I swore I never wanted to hear that voice again. They send me a voicemail. I listen. Not that bad but very emotionally draining for me. I send her messages that I forgive her, I know she is very sick and dying and I want her to know she is forgiven and when she leaves this earth to know that at least in my regard, my anger is finished. I hear her condition is worse, I am upset and avoid social media for a week. When I come back I find a message she has died. The caregiver says she repeatedly asks if she can speak with me but they can't contact me. She asks for an icecream and enjoys it. Then looks up at the caregiver and says, "Thank you for finding him for me"  smiles and dies. Just like that. Haha, I told the caregiver. Cool story. Real tear jerker. "No, it's true, I swear it. " She tells how strange and peaceful that smile was as my mother passed away. She had been talking about me and stated I was the smartest of all her children and she always felt bad how she treated me and wanted to make it right, how ever that means. And "Thank you for finding him" were her last words. So, if I won anything, I won that apology and it's kind of a sort of win knowing she didn't talk about my brother or sister as she lay dying. My siblings who beat the shit out of me growing up and were allowed to do so and did all they could to fuck things up for me on a regular basis throughout my life. She actually banned my older brother from contacting her again because of his abusive nature. Kind of weird irony. The favored ones forgotten and the most abused one she makes peace with after taking some ranting from me.  As for my life, I try to be kind, do good for others, and MAGA all I can in my small corner of life.