What Hasn't Happened Yet

Image credit: Photo by snaulkter on Flickr Licensed under Creative Commons

A few months ago, my daughter Janie brought her favorite stuffed animal over to a neighbor's house to play. I meant to remember to make sure she brought Gigi home, but in the confusion of saying goodbye and putting on shoes and making sure her brother didn't dash out the door prematurely, I forgot. We tromped home without her, and I rushed out the door not long after for a night out with some girlfriends, leaving the kids with my husband Mark.

I arrived home later that night, delighted after a wonderful dinner out, to find Mark looking frazzled. The kids had only just fallen asleep, and Janie had cried nearly the entire time because they couldn't find Gigi. They had tried the neighbor, but no one answered, so Mark had stayed in her room with her until she cried herself to sleep. He worried that she'd wake in the night and not be able to get back to sleep. So, I tried the neighbor again, waking her this time, and retrieved Gigi, whom I placed in bed next to Janie to ensure she'd sleep through the night.

Last week, Janie brought Gigi to the same friend's house to play. With the trauma of that last visit still fresh in all our minds, I was certain that this time we'd all remember to see Gigi safely home when it was time to go. Yet we all forgot again. I went off to yoga class and Mark was just about to get the kids ready for bed when our neighbor knocked on the door, Gigi in hand. And Mark was furious. I had done it again! I had set him up once again for a horrific bedtime and set Janie up once again for tears and despair.

But then he realized that nothing bad had happened this time. Bedtime hadn't started. No one missed Gigi yet. The neighbor found Gigi and cheerfully dropped her off during her evening walk. No one was upset. No one was inconvenienced. Mark was angry and resentful about what could have happened but didn't. And as he started to tell me the story, I was anxious and guilty about problems I hadn't caused. In the past, those emotions would have fed into some kind of crazy acting out cycle. Mark would have used sex to make the fear and discomfort go away, and I would have put off my own needs to do whatever it took to make him feel better. But for today, when we can see it, we're able to let go of what hasn't happened yet.

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This post was originally published at The Second Road.