She’s here. The most wonderful month of them all. Last night she blustered in with crashing storms and cooler air, and today I’m wearing boots and a scarf. Okay. Maybe I jumped the gun a smidge. It’s gonna be 78 today.

Jane and I had a stomach bug, which led to a lot of togetherness and dry toast and Tinkerbell marathons. At one point Jane pointed to the screen and said, “What happened to Tinkerbell’s clothes?” And I said, “Exactly.” Jane looked at me with a raised eyebrow (I’m not kidding, a legitimately raised eyebrow) and then went back to watching tv. It was at that moment I realized we had been trapped inside together for far too long.

But now we’re well. And the weather is good. And our fireplace looks like the Martha Stewart Halloween craft section barfed on it, so all is right with the world.

Lately Jane and I have done a lot of watercolor painting. We’ve also done a lot of discussing about never, ever, drinking the paint water.

Lately I’ve done an abnormal amount of pinterest research on freezing fresh herbs and making the perfect chili.

Lately, I’ve tried really, really hard to forgive.

Paul Young said something like “Forgiveness isn’t about forgetting. It’s about letting go of another person’s throat.”

And harder than forgiving is admitting how angry I’ve been.

I’ve realized that I don’t want to, and cannot, live my life angry. Angry that most people don’t know my side of the story. Angry about the untrue things have been said about me. Angry that some family and friends turned out to be not family and not friends, not at all.

And the other day I realized that all this anger is eating me up. And I realized I don’t want to be angry. I want to forgive. I want to pick up and move on and enjoy the immense amount of happiness in my life right now. I’ll never forget, because that would just make me stupid. But I’m ready to forgive. I’m ready to let it go of the anger.

Whatever I have to do to make this happen, I’m going to do it. I’m going to open up more to the people who love me and share the truth. I’m going to go back to therapy. I’m going to reroute my thoughts and sometimes simply refuse to think about anything negative. I’m going to keep painting with my kid, and go for walks, and light up pumpkins at night. I’m going to facetime Fayez and confuse him greatly with phrases like “you’re a mess” (in the south this is a term of endearment, apparently in other places not so much). I’m going to keep attending my new church where there’s a funny band with a trumpet and a woman minister with the coolest eyeglasses ever.

I’m going to forgive.

I’m going to let go of my anger.

I’m moving on.




  1. Lesley says:

    I was where you are, Liz. Sick of taking the high road but determined to make it to the other side with a bit of grace where I could find it. I’m here to tell you that life.gets.so.much.better. You just can’t even imagine (well, it seems you have found a great pocket of happiness which is fantastic). Go to therapy. And then go to more therapy. Keep walking and painting and writing your funny, funny stuff. You deserve this incredible new life and you are well on your way. xo


  2. Ingrid says:

    Liz-I’m a longtime lurker on your wonderful blog. Although I’m considerably older, your journey and your insights along the way have been comforting and thought-provoking. Thank you.

    Your comments about forgiveness and anger resonate with me. My husband’s infidelity and the fury and rage it caused tormented me for a long time. I feel no need to forgive; I’m just taking one step at a time. I had to forgive myself for not giving forgiveness any head space and I had to forgive myself for the choices I made long ago. I can still get angry about the sellfish unfairness of his choices but the anger is not nearly at long-lasting or profound as it was four years ago. I cycled through Kubler-Ross’ stages of grief for a long time. Lesley is right; my biggest regret is that I didn’t go to therapy to help with the trauma. I wish you contentment in your life.


  3. casacaudill says:

    Jane cracks me up. 🙂

    Sometimes I think I can forgive the hurts in my life and then someone will say something, or I’ll see something on FB, and I’ll go back to remembering why I am so angry at those people in the first place. I hope you have a much better time of it than I have.


      • Vera Pollard says:

        That is just low and petty on his part.
        I used to tell a friend of mine “I will pray for you and on your behalf when you just don’t have it in you. Stay angry until you work through it.”


  4. Queenofcups says:

    Don’t forgive and don’t forget. Whatever happened becomes part of who you are; changed for good. That’s not being negative at all. You will eventually let it go, it takes time, it’s surely harder when you’re still having to face the source of it. It’s all about you now, you know. Sorry – I hate sounding preachy. I’ve been through horrible times myself, never forgave the person because it’s not necessary, I found my peace of mind without it.


  5. Crystal says:

    Forgiveness can take a long time and it’s not something you can force. Don’t beat yourself up about it–it will happen, just not right away. Years from now you might still have flashes of anger and resentment–it’s okay. It’s okay to be angry if you’ve been treated shabbily. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. You’re entitled to your anger and your grief. You’ll work through it in your own way.

    Not allowing you to see your dog is petty.


  6. Amanda says:

    “Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.”
    Mark Twain
    I love this quote so much. I admire your willingness to forgive….as it is a much more difficult a path to take. I understand losing friends and not being able to shed light on my side of the story. Stay strong my friend….and when that fails, lean upon God. I saw a funny quote the other day and thought of you: “write drunk. Edit sober.” I don’t even know if you drink…but the quote just made me laugh. 🙂


  7. Barbara says:

    March on Liz! We don’t know each other from Adam or Eve but I’ve been following your old and now New blog for years. Forgiveness is good …. for you …. and for Jane. People are going to think what they want, you know your truth. Live that, love the Lord and believe you deserve all good things.


  8. Caren says:

    Ugh. I have been reading you for a long time and I think this is my first comment. Why can’t you see Mabel? That just makes me so sad for you and her. If you don’t want to answer, that’s OK, consider this rhetorical, but please know that this dog lover is thinking of you (and her.)


  9. Sharon says:

    You can’t see Mabel? Oh my word! I’m sorry Liz. I think you are on the right path though. If you hold on to the anger you will just become bitter, negative and a not happy person. Jane is always watching you and she someday will know that you were a forgiver. I think you are amazing and I wish you and Jane the best!


  10. Catie says:

    I’ve listened to a few sermons about forgiveness (I may or may not have struggled with that myself. Ahem.) and the one thing that always helped me is that even though you’ve forgiven the person *in your heart* you don’t necessarily have to TELL them. You should treat them like you’ve forgiven them <–hardest thing ever. But if they don't apologize (I'm still waiting for mine.. 😉 ) you don't have to tell them they're forgiven. I dunno. That helped me. 🙂 God bless you, Liz. Glad comments are back on.


  11. Juli says:

    So sorry, dear gal, about the Mabel wars. That’s awful. The ladies above are right; therapy will help. (And if you think it’s reeeeally not helping, change your therapist! But don’t ditch therapy.) Hugs.


  12. dianecayton says:

    I have a really really really fast bicycle with a basket on it that Mabel would fit into nicely. Give me his address and I shall swoop by, grab the dog (my little pretty) and be gone. No wait… that’s the witch on the Wizard of Oz!! darn…. *sigh* how petty of him to not let you see the dog. I better just stop here before I say what I REALLY think.


  13. **Dawn** says:

    I’m late in commenting, but I loved the sincerity of this post. I had to say that. I also have to say that I love love love the art hanging over your fireplace. Like big puffy heart love (and I don’t even care if no one says that anymore).


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