Mother’s Day

264 Marbles 

    It was Mother’s Day yesterday so I switched shifts to get the night off work.  The kids slept over the night before and when they woke up Mother’s Day morning, they were excited to give me their presents.  My daughter had a picture and a sweet poem and my youngest son had painted me a watercolor.  My eldest son loaded new songs on my iPod. 
    I was so happy with all the love in their gifts.  Then they gave me the presents from their dad – a deck chair cushion (a replacement for the one he plucked last week on Marble 273) and a hydrangea.  I know that it was nice of him to get me anything, but that deck chair cushion, well that’s still a sore spot.  
    I took a few moments in my bedroom in the morning to have a cry while the kids watched a movie.  I felt self-absorbed and petty for caring about a cushion.  It wasn’t just the cushion – it was Ex-man’s attitude about the cushions:  He didn’t want to split the set up and leave me with one but I wondered if he had been half as intent not to split people up, would we be in a different place now?  In an effort to reign in my melodrama, I called a friend who told me to let go of the cushion.  She told me, “You’ll find something better in your travels.”  For now I’ve removed all cushions from my chair and I’m admiring the refinishing job. 
    The rest of the day was great.  The kids and I went to a movie, played a game of Sorry and went to my sister’s for dinner with my Mom.  When we got home my daughter was tense and contrary.  When I tucked her in, I asked her,
“What’s up, Sweetie?”  The tears started, “I don’t like having a special day without Daddy.  It’s not the same.  It’s never going to be the same.”  My son chimed in and said, “My heart is sad.”  I asked, “How could we make it better next time?”  My daughter asked, “Couldn’t Daddy come for brunch?”  I told her that we could try that out next time. 
    I’m still playing the game of Sorry with my kids: Sorry that the two adults in their lives couldn’t have worked it out and kept their family (and deck chair cushions) together; Sorry that we haven’t given them the best representation of what love and relationship can look and feel like; and Sorry that our choices have affected their lives and made them sad when all I want for them is happiness. 

I’ve heard one definition of forgiveness that goes, “Forgiveness is letting go of the idea that the past could have been different.”  Can you forgive yourself for your relationship not working?  (This is particularly tricky when there is a family involved, I know.)