Holding Grudges

I'm writing this post because I just read an email from an old friend, who I hadn't talked to in years. I cried while reading her brief email, because I'd stopped talking to her over some small matter. Something that hurt my feelings. Something that I decided meant she didn't really love me. Somehow she'd seen pictures from when my daughter was a little baby. Adia is now 17 and headed to college this fall. I cried reading her email because I got present to this truth: Life's much too short to hold grudges. This woman, who I kicked to the curb for one small slight, was responsible for putting my daughter in African dance school. In the pictures, from way back then, she is holding Adia with such love and tenderness, as if she's her own child. And to think, I threw her away like an old rag. She emailed to say "Congrats! I'm thrilled for you." And signed the email with "Love ya." She's still kind and loving.

I immediately called another friend of mine, to see how he was doing. We'd had a pretty ugly disagreement recently and I'd ceased to speak to him. He didn't answer. I left a message. I want him to know I'm still his friend.

Yesterday, I went to see my mother. She's 90 years old. It was a particularly warm and engaging visit. This time I was with her. You know what I mean, I relaxed. I was in no hurry to get on to the next thing. My mother tends to be quiet and reserved. She's not given to telling you how much she loves and misses you. And she didn't do it this time either. HeHeHe However, this time, Mother seemed genuinely pleased to see me. There was a warmth and pleasantness about her that said, "I'm glad you're here." Her bedroom TV was acting up so she suggested we go to the living room. There, we watched the news together. She even offered me something to eat. We chatted and laughed. I lingered. Mother had been on my mind for days. When someone you love is senior, you're more apt to think about losing them. So, I was grateful to have another several moments with the woman who birthed me, raised me, and continues to be open to learning new ways of loving. I've got a couple of sisters who ignore her calls and never call her. I guess they don't look into the future like some of us do and see how much they'll regret holding a grudge against the only mother they'll ever know. Grudges for things they can't even name.

This is for ALL the people that I think have hurt me and for those who I have harmed. Let's let bygones be bygones. I forgive you. And ask for your forgiveness. I love you!

DeBora