The only way to live is to forgive yourself constantly for being human. Glennon Doyle

Inspired by Dilruba Ahmed’s poem Phase One

For doing one last task
then running consistently five minutes late
when the kids were small, I forgive you.

For worrying more about tidying the house
then being the voice of Thomas the Tank engine
or ebullient Elmo.

I forgive you for all the plants you forgot to water
and the vegetables you neglected
to use in time.

For leaving your wallet on the roof of
that unreliable red Volvo when Molly was ten days old
and scattering your life across Gold Country Boulevard.

For being cross-eyed exhausted, not when Jimmy’s cancer care
kept you up all night, but when you chose
just one more episode, email, Instagram scroll, I forgive you.

For all the times you yelled at one of the kids
instead of counting to ten,
talking a breath, going on a walk.

For rushing past too much of your life,
moments you thought would come again
and those you came to appreciate only in hindsight, I forgive you.

For saying ‘yes’ when you wanted to say ‘no’
needed to say ‘no,’ prioritized something
or someone that didn’t matter or didn’t care.

I forgive you for acting as if coffee
were a life-saving drug and your world
would shut down if your Peet’s lattes ran dry.

For the days when you couldn’t eat enough See’s candy
or salt & vinegar potato chips, when full plates of food
left you hungry for more.

When you failed to speak out or stand up, got it all wrong.
When you candy-coated your response instead of telling the truth,
or glibly said, “That’s okay” when it absolutely wasn’t.

For getting impatient with your mother and didn’t call enough
when all she wanted was to hear your voice after Jimmy died,
I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.

For allowing fear to paralyze you instead of letting go so you could fly.
For forgetting to remember that listening is more powerful
than anything you could say.

For dredging up old mistakes against yourself and
silently recounting them like crimes,
instead of knowing that, like all of us, you did the best you could.