My mother first taught me about the art of forgiveness. I remember a gleaming white wall that stood proudly behind my parent's bed. The sound of Mum in the shower, steam curling through the en suite door into her room where I waited and a thick black marker pen on a bedside table. Forgiveness came quickly that day as Mum, an artist understood the lure.For a long time I was the seeker of forgiveness but with motherhood, the balance has changed and I have become a dispenser. The above necklace was knitted in a beautiful bamboo yarn. I wore it joyfully and briefly, until a small child in a large rage threw it onto the ground, the glass marbles inside smashing against the concrete floor, crating large gaping holes in it. And of course, after a short while, forgiveness for the small, anonymous child was obtained.
However, I am now realising thanks to Archie that the roles of forgiver and forgivee are not static and to be forgiven as a mother for mistakes is so precious, it is almost as thought you get to hold their unconditional love as a small bird in your palm... seemingly fragile but with a life of its own, a heart beat fuelled by its own kind of energy.
Last night I was trying to book tickets to Australia for Christmas, a job that fills me with stress for all the rigmarole involved with travelling to my family (of course I know I am lucky that I can see them...). Archie kept calling to me down the stairs with all sorts of excuses for me to come up to his bedroom, of course not understanding that every time I left the computer, the details I was entering would lapse. Eventually I snapped and yelled up the stairs with such anger and frustration my voice hurt.
I was instantly stricken and went upstairs later to apologise. Archie was lying in bed looking sad and instantly responded with the warmest smile and "It's okay Mummy", reaching to hug me. This morning over breakfast he said I deserved a certificate from Father Christmas for saying sorry so well. My hands felt as though they were filled with warm feathers.
There are two other things that have recently taught me more about the nature of forgiving:-Painting and the never ending colours you can put on a canvas.
-The sun returning to earth every morning, providing another canvas for the day (see above)
Anyway, I had better fly and pick Hugo up from Minnows because it is still better to try and do the right thing I guess than leave him there for the day and just hope that his teachers will forgive me.
