“You could put a cinder block in the middle of the room with those boys and they could tear it plumb apart” is what my Pa (grandfather) used to say about me and my 21 month older brother, Mike. We would fight about anything. Mike could say that the kool-aid was red and just to be opposite I would say it was blue. I would tell him to turn right and he would turn left just to spite me. We would tell each other not to cross the imaginary line drawn between us in the car on our family vacation and we would indefinitely put our pinky finger across it. I would craft a beautiful, tasty sandwich and just as I was putting the parts away in the fridge Mike would stick his thumb right through it and scream “Doy?” We even got into a chasing match around the kitchen while making lunch and Mike picked up my mustard covered hot dog and threw it 10 feet across the room just to slap it against my early developed, 13 year old hairy chest. The one thing that makes all of these memories stick out to me now is that we always made up. We may have hated each other for the time being or truly despised the other at other times but we always offered forgiveness and started clean for the next bout. We love and enjoy each other now more than ever.
Last night we were packing up to leave a friends house when my 6 year old, Jayden, came to me with a pouty- yet- mean face and I asked her what was going on. She said that she and her friend were fighting. I told her that I understood but we needed to be cordial and tell her friend “Thank you” for letting us come play. She glared at me and shook her head…”I don’t wanna”. I told her again that I understood her feelings but she needed to “be the bigger girl and tell her thank you”. She turned reluctantly and did as I asked but stomping away. I called out to her “do it with a good attitude or it wont mean anything”. She walked softer and disappeared into the bedroom of her little friend. I heard some whispering but no crying or yelps from blows being taken. I waited expectantly for her to emerge with crossed arms and a pouting face but I was quite surprised. She came out hand in hand with her friend, both gleaming with joy that their problems were behind them. I asked if everything was okay and they giggled and hugged to show me their new found friendship.
I learn from watching my girls and through memories of my brothers that forgiving and being forgiven is paramount in our relationships. Sometimes it isn’t easy and sometimes we fight it and forgive even though we really don’t want to. But most of the time we come out of it even happier than we were before the problem even arose. Especially when the laughter erupts when a hot dog splatters on your chest.
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