After dinnertime tonight I cried, leaning over the kitchen sink full of dirty dishes, longing to hear the words, Thanks for dinner, baby, as I contemplated signing up for the next Parenting On Track class.

The girls were long over it, of course, trampoline-bound with their friends up the street, and I stood there sobbing as the phone rang, my soul-sister 200 miles south of here somehow knowing I needed her call, though I didn’t answer, couldn’t bear to communicate, to convey the stories, the squabbling, the meltdowns, the moments endured now passed, the ache of how they sometimes cling to my legs, the tenderness of spreading out under silky new sheets, the stories that come later, in the dark.

Instead, I stayed there this way for a few minutes, letting the tears finally just flow, trying to treat myself as gently as I wish to treat those whose touch, eyes, arms, and comfort I have walked away from perhaps inexplicably, this self-song exchanging wanting for needing, grasping for releasing, learning what only time alone can teach me.

And so I finished the dishes and wiped the counters clean of salt spilled on purpose and grated cheese flung to the floor by a five-year old fussing, and I moved to the living room and pulled out the piano bench, feeling my way for those familiar chords of solace, my body tilting towards the wordless music of forgiveness.

3 thoughts on “Forgiveness

  1. Erin V says:

    That was a beautiful song and a beautiful post. I’m growing to appreciate more and more the connection between rote actions in life – seemingly simple, mindless tasks such as washing dishes or cleaning up the spills from children, more – and how very much an act of kindness and love those can be. And how those things, like creativity and music, need to be appreciated too.

    I’m glad you’re being as gentle with yourself and with those you love as you seem to be. We don’t always get it wrong and we don’t always forget to say “thank you”. But when we do, wordless forgiveness is ever more profound.




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