Forgiveness

I just want next weekend to come and go.  I know the emotional toll it will take on my soul and the anticipation of that is crippling.  I suspect I am not the only one who feels this way - I bet it is the same with any traumatic anniversary.  "We now interrupt your perfectly unperfect life for this painful reminder of what you survived."  Thanks.

People ask me various questions about the accident, especially around this time of year, but the hardest one is: Do you forgive the people responsible?  Yes, generally.  But not on the Anniversary.  On the Anniversary, I have mini conversations with them.

I ask them why they couldn't have left wherever they were  one minute later ?

I ask them if they have nightmares.  And when they say yes, I am satisfied.  Ashamed, but satisfied.

Forgiveness is a daily thing.  We can make up our minds to forgive, and we choose to forgive each day.  But on the Saturday of Opening Weekend, I give myself permission not to forgive.  And it feels good.  I can't believe I am admitting to that, but once a year, I let the anger out of its cage and it brings me to my knees.

Here's what the anger sounds like:

My mind screams and my eyes overflow with hot tears. I wonder if they realize that magnitude of that night, or if they file it away deep in their brains because it hurts too much to think about how something they did has left an everlasting hardship.

I think about how my husband will never feel grass or sand beneath his feet.  I think about how every morning he works up a sweat just getting dressed.  I think about all of the missed family vacations and outings.  I think about how our youngest noticed that daddy has no feet.  He has no feet.  Imagine that.  Imagine how hard EVERYTHING would be?

And I wonder if those thoughts cross their minds - if they even let themselves go there. I get pissed in a protective way, which is the hardest way to be pissed off because it's not about you.  It's about someone you love.

And then it's Sunday.  And I think about how God loved us and continues to love us.  I think about where our lives were headed and where they are now.  I think about all of the talented people that saved his love and in turn, created life.  I think about how we didn't let the devil win.  About how God battled for our hearts.

And my anger turns to thankfulness.  Not thankful that it happened, but just thankful.  I feel sorrow for the people responsible because of course they have "gone there," and I have no idea how that must haunt them.

 On Sunday, I forgive.

Thank You Teachers

It's the eve of the First Day of School, and my 10 year old daughter couldn't be more excited. Yes, she's excited to see her friends and to play at recess.  She's excited to wear her new outfit and use her new supplies.  But mostly she is excited for what a new school year stands for: possibility. And I have you, her teachers to thank for that.

Nessa has learned that school can be hard - she will be challenged by her teachers and her peers to outgrow herself in every way imaginable. But, she knows that through the challenges, she will come out better.  More refined.  Smarter and more compassionate.  And I have you, her teachers to thank for that.

She started school at three years old, barely able to remember her last name.  Now she writes persuasive essays to the neighbors about homelessness and animal rights.  She had her ABCs memorized (the younger ones who follow will not - you've been warned), and now she is reading beautifully written historical fiction that teaches of struggle and triumph.  And I have you, her teachers to thank for that.

She is memorizing multiplication and division facts, and while there is something about math that give her hesitation, she powers through.  She sets goals.  She works hard.  And I have you, her teachers to thank for that.

Thursday, we will send Nessa's sister Lainey to 4K.  She will enter the school system for the first time.  With Nessa, I was nervous - hesitant to let her go outside of our safe little bubble.  But with Lainey, we are excited.  We know she will be loved.  And Lainey is excited, too, because thanks to her big sister, she knows no other way to think about school.  And I have you, her teachers to thank for that.

To Mrs. Mares and Mrs. Krueger - this years' teachers:

Thank for for what I know you are about to do.  All summer, you have been with your kids.  Three months of stay-at-home mom life balanced with a bunch of professional reading and training.  But, still, you have had three months where your own kids have been front and center.  And this week, you are about to make my kids yours.

You will think about my kid during Packers games.  You will pray for her at church.  You will make plans for her and design lessons that are engaging yet challenging.  You will tell yourself that you are "taking the weekend off," but you won't.  I know this because I know your hearts.  You will feel guilty for telling your own kids, "I'll be there in a minute" but it will really be more like 20 because you're answering my email question about the field trip form I never returned.

You will give so much of yourselves to my kids.  So much so that my kids will become your kids, just like all of the teachers who have come before you.

And for this, I thank you all.

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