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Broken Wires – Apologies and Forgiveness
This morning my kids are at school and I’m home pondering apologies and forgiveness for the routine conflicts experienced in family and friendships. One of my own struggles is that after I have wronged someone, even if I have apologized and they say they have forgiven me, I still feel the brokenness. I can shoulder the hurt for years and stash it away to beat myself up with later. Sometimes if I’m the one wounded, I don’t address hurtful actions but blame myself for having high expectations or assuming a friendship was tighter than it was. I’m not in therapy and haven’t studied these topics, but I suspect this isn’t…
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Whitetop Weekend
My dad’s mom suffered Alzheimer’s and dementia at the end of her life, and it seemed she remembered childhood bits, but then there were huge chunks of time missing. I’m not a rock climber, but I believe documenting memories and thoughts is a little like when a climber clips in to a new anchor once they’ve finished a pitch. Not all is lost if they slip up. So here I am, clipping in a minor memory because it all matters. There is glory in climbing to new heights just as there is glory in watching the flowers sway in the wind. Having a child start middle school has really taken…
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Reaching Back
Do you ever try to reach deep into your memories and remember places and how you felt in them and what you were doing? I love looking far back and finding the small person for whom I now have so much more compassion, with the benefit of hindsight and years of growth. The older I get, the more similar to her I become. I’ve always mourned the loss of childhood, but now I’m finding I never did fully let it go. During childhood, magic was easy to access. A day dream was only a blink away. All the coming-of-age tales seem to hinge on loss of innocence, a character realizing…
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What Will You Be?
A friend was standing on the front stoop after picking up her son, and she thanked me for sharing my mid-life crisis post. She had been having similar conversations with friends, one of whom observed the ridiculousness of her own crisis when her high school junior was on the precipice life-defining choices. It struck me that I’ve never felt like I had arrived or become what I owed it to the world, my parents, God or the foundations that funded my education to become. At times I fear I’ve missed the window of becoming. But then I look at my children and remember I love them as they are, having…
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Thoughts
My husband has no recollection of ever having sobbed in his life, so yesterday evening when I was trying to explain how my bouts of depression felt, there was a clear disconnect in my ability to communicate. “Have you ever cried really hard? Like where your whole body is heaving?” “No.” “Okay, well…. that’s how it felt.” It was maybe Friday when my body and my spirit felt as if I’d just spent hours doubled over crying, only I hadn’t been. There was nothing to be sad about in that moment, but I felt emotionally drained and broken. Of course it passed. New days bring new feelings, new weather, new…
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Chocolate Milk and Anger
I was upstairs scrubbing my jawline with acne cleanser (thank you, mid-30s hormones and anxiety for bad skin), and I’m listening to the boys making their chocolate milk. They’ve learned to dump instant breakfast packets in a glass, pour the milk and stir. It’s their favorite drink (favorite breakfast as well) and it was a big deal that the youngest earned permission to make his own. They do it on their own most mornings. I overheard angry accusations that the oldest used up the last of the milk. I had bought two new gallons the day before, but it’s hard for the youngest to take the seal off and pour…
