it seems to me that he thinks that all he has to do is say he is sorry and things should just go back to him being back in our good standing
Like the rest of you, our situation is similar. My son of late has been using the phrase "a new leaf." Every. single. time. he does not follow through and wants a do over, to continue his same plan, he proclaims: " a new leaf." M responded: "the problem is that you are not a tree." Which I thought was pretty funny.
And my son continues with the same behavior with us and others that ruined other near lifelong friendships. What he laments is the rupture of the relationship (on his terms) and creates a lot of theater about his moral defects (feigned--this must be.) He does not see a need to change his specific behavior that caused his losses, and repeated rejections, let alone our frustration, mistrust or pain.
This is the hope, over which we have not a bit of control, as explains RE:
He may or may not get to a point where he can actually hear how much his actions harmed others......
I mentioned on another thread that I am speaking with a spiritual director. She is coaching me to try to envision a state of mind where I
no longer fight someone, destiny, within myself...You see, like some crusader of long ago, sure in their rightness as they go towards the Holy Land--the very sense of mine that I crusade on the part of what is right, and true--has an aggressiveness about it, for which I pay a huge price. And others too. I am learning to see that to the same extent or more that my son imposes his rules on me, I do so to him-creating war within me and between us.
To the extent that I can learn to discern where I have control and where I do not, I can regain true power.
I think you should send the card. If you want to do it, DO it.
Cedar wrote something to me very wise, when I was so sad after my sister responded negatively to the birthday email I had sent her.
Cedar wrote (I paraphrase here):
you sent the email from your own best intentions, with love and hope. She (sister) cannot determine what you do and do not do; what you think and how you feel. She cannot make you do or do not do anything. Your choice. Not hers. (My sister told me to not contact her again.)
Cedar's post, I thought, was very wise and anticipated to an extent what the spiritual counselor seeks to teach me. Where we have control, we can seize it and protect it and never, ever give it away.
But much of what we think we do control, is an illusion, a fantasy. Even within our own minds, over ourselves, and our own life and actions. We have limited control. But Cedar was right: We can intend to do something with heart and feeling and with hope. And with responsibility, and resolve. But we cannot control the result.
A letter to your son about how you feel and what have been the costs to you invites him to an adult relationship, with intimacy and responsibility, but cannot guarantee it.
This whole thing we are dealing with is so, so hard--and feels so, so sad to me. But there is beauty and hope in it--and opening too. This is the part that I am only now learning.
But how does one know if and when they do apologize that it's heartfelt and not just words to butter up the banker?
When I think about it, maybe what we are learning now, each of us, is how to be in relationships of integrity
with ourselves.
Maybe we are learning surrender to that which we cannot control, could never control. Maybe detachment, after all, was always a spiritual state, rather than a physical one.