Maybe Later

This morning, a conversation:

Lucia walks up to me, holding a stuffed dog (an ugly little thing with pretty bows), a gift her "other lola" gave her.

"Mommy, I want you to love my other Lola."

"I can't force myself to love someone I hate, babe. I'm sorry."

"But I love her."

"And that's okay. You can love her all you want. I really can't."

"Can you love her later. Like in...December?"

"I can't say. I can be nice to her, but I really can't love her."

"Okay. Hey, mom. You know what else I was thinking?"

(BRACING MYSELF.)

"No, what?"

"What's Ariel's (the Little Mermaid) mom's name?"

--

Woman, if by any chance you read this, know that at some point, before knowing who you are and what you did, your granddaughter loved you. I will keep her from the painful truth for as long as I can, but when she asks (and if she is old enough), I will tell her.

And you know what? She will probably still love you. Because she is beautiful that way.

As for me...

--

Someday, I will stop hating you. Maybe. And long after that, maybe then, I will forgive you.

--

(And I continue to pray for forgiveness for being unable to forgive.)