It was hard. Really hard. I’ve seeing my mother cry 2 times in my lifetime… Now it’s 3.
“I don’t want you to go.” I didn’t know what to say, how to respond, what to do. So I did nothing. She hugged me, tried to hold back her tears, her emotions. But I’d already seen it, felt it.
“True justice is paying only once for each mistake”
How often do we overlook the above aphorism as we repeatedly revisit past mistakes, injuries, and confrontations? There are times I lie sleepless and recall arguments I had with college sweethearts, high school teachers, and even the grade school bully. What do I get for my trouble? Sometimes I experience that all-too-familiar wave of panic, other times an uneasy stomach or a rapidly beating heart; that feeling is almost always accompanied by guilt, resentment, or both. The experience never benefits me and I’ve reached the point in my life where I need to stop it.
