Forgiveness Is Not Condoning
Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree Curves.
I have one last bit of data to find before I can file the tax return I extended in April when I was sick and over- worked and sick of being overworked. I think I can safely find the data now because I unexpectedly found some- thing else I’ve been looking for for the past year. Notes from a session with a counselor, a session that was meant to be nothing more than a heading check for the course I was on and my healing process.
Obviously, I had to discover my notes tonight, rather than a year ago when I was turning the office upside down to find them. What they were doing in a box with cancelled checks, I have no idea. Especially since the box is new and I’ve been through it a dozen times. But…you know how quantum those physics can be!
In any case, it was a matter of timing. A year ago, those notes wouldn’t have meant as much. I would have tossed them out, and nearly did before misplacing them right under my nose. A week ago, they wouldn’t have mattered either. Tonight, they showed up at the exact time I needed to see them.
I knew precisely what they were at the moment I touched them, and all the memories of that session came flooding back, including the anger. I’m eager to work through my issues when they come up, yet that was the only time I ever argued with a counselor.
As we prepared to start our session, we chatted for a few moments about my health. I made the mistake of mentioning to him a recent medical diagnosis that I was actually quite okay with because it gave me answers and it’s nothing bad at all, in my opinion. (I have a tilted uterus, the kind of thing every gynecologist I’ve ever had thought was really cool, especially when I was preggers.) I didn’t get around to explaining that I was fine with it,