A Decade

My oldest turned 10 yesterday. Seems like just yesterday he was born. I was 18 and terrified. I was a couple of months into a marriage that wasn't going so well and I had no support system. At least not a very functional one. My mother wasn't really talking to me. I was 17 and a senior in high school when I got pregnant. And on the honor roll. And on my way to college with a full-ride scholarship. She wasn't very happy. Now, I understand.

10 years and one very messy divorce later, everything has turned out ok. As much as I hated my mother for not being there when I needed her most, I've forgiven her. What I was really angry about was that I knew she was doing the wrong thing. What I didn't know was that she didn't know it was the wrong thing. I thought that she should have all the answers.

The hardest thing that I have learned in the last 10 years is that parents never have all the answers. All we can do is the very best that we know how with what we have. So I am constantly trying to forgive my parents for mistakes I think they made. Mistakes that I am sure they agonized about the same way I agonize about every decision I make. I hope some day my oldest will come to this same conclusion. And with the turbulent teenage years coming up, I hope he chooses to forgive me.