MARCH 2
Many promising reconciliations have broken down because,
while both parties came prepared to forgive, neither party
came prepared to be forgiven.
—CHARLES WILLIAMSSometimes it is the last stone to be lifted from the grieving
heart—the inability to accept forgiveness. And we each have
our own catalog of things for which we yearn for forgive-
ness. The harsh word quickly spoken, the service performed
begrudgingly—or not at all.
Who is holding out for reprisal? Is the one who has died
scowling and shaking an accusing finger in some nether-
world? More than likely it’s we who continue to berate
ourselves: How could you?
“When you forgive yourself, you are forgiven,” says
Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, who for many years has written about
and consoled others with the stages of grief.
Imagine a conversation between you and the one for
whom you grieve. Would you want that person to be
without flaws? Such a person would bear little resemblance
to the one you love.
No more does that person want perfection of you. You
wouldn’t be recognizable, either!
I will try to let the weight of guilt and regret slip away. I am not
perfect. I am loved. And love makes all kinds of allowances—and
keeps on loving.