Quarrel fueled by miscommunication, lack of communication, assumptions and disconnection.
It has been one of the greatest and the hardest weeks in a very long time. I have felt my blood boil on a few occasions, having little patience and grace with any and all trespassers. And the more I would slide on that slope, the faster I would go down.
It all started with the pusher on the playground, then discourteous pushers in traffic, pushers and cutters in line at Auchan. Then the unspoken (and then emailed) expectations of my parents, regarding church, it’s pitfalls and us (not) attending a It with them. Then Jackie visiting the foster parents and the tension accumulated leading up to it, and the settling back in afterwards, with a lot more clarity regarding roles, perspective and past.
It felt like there is no escape from the easily spiked rage. I am quite unfamiliar with this kind of easy anger. We’ve made mistakes, forgot things at the store, forgot things at home when we needed to finalize administrative stuff in town, car technical inspection and dentist appointments, mother’s day pressure …
So we made the decision to let go and humble oneself, because life in that kind of tense state is impossible and maddening.
I went swimming and it dawned on me the simple prayer to pray: “dear God, please remove the spirit of quarrel from us.” Justification, replaying words and events, who was right, who was wrong, who spoke out of turn, who spoke rash words.
Then mother’s day turned out special… the day Conrad proposed, the eve of my birthday ten years ago. We went out and I allowed myself to be treated to a delicious salad and beer, to let time, sun rays and wind flow through my short hair as I watched the city from up above.
