Talkin About Forgiveness  "Isn't there anything I can do to make you feel better, baby?"      "No," said Moomie.  "All I wanted was to put my cup up there."       "I can't go back in time and do it over again, honey.  I can't travel back in time and let you put your cup up there, though I sure wish I could."  He was still crying, though we had left the store and gotten strapped into the van.  See, tonight Moomie taught me something, something about forgiveness.      Earlier in the evening, the radio was playing that song:  I been trying to get down  To the heart of the matter  But the flesh will get weak  And my thoughts seem to scatter  But I think it's about  Forgiveness  Forgiveness Even if, even if you don't love me anymore.      Lately he has been listening to lyrics, and he asked me what forgiveness was, and I told him it means that when someone does something to you, if you stop worrying about it, then you forgive them.     After that we were at the store, and he chose a small cup for himself and one for his brother Boober.  As we got to the register, I placed everything on the counter where it was quickly rung up.  He had been in midsentence, but I didn't realize he was going to ask me to let him put his cup on the counter until it was too late.  The very tired four-year-old collapsed on the floor in a puddle of tears.  I had to coax him out of the way of the other shoppers and into the van, and he was still upset.     "Nothing I can do at all?"     "No."     I sighed.  I knew how he felt, and began to tell him why.  I told him everything that was in yesterday's entry, about our wedding.  Then I reminded him of the song lyrics he had asked me about earlier.     "Did it make you sad and mad that you didn't get to dance at your wedding, Mom?"     "Yes I was very angry and sad, but I pretended it didn't bother me much.  So, do you think it's about time I forgave Daddy?"     "Yeah."     "Think maybe it was a bad thing for me to be angry for years and years and years?"     "Yeah, that was a bad thing."     "He didn't mean to hurt my feelings, just like I didn't mean to hurt your feelings about the cup.  Are you going to be angry with me for years and years?"     Silence.     "Do you need to think about that one?"     "Yeah, let me think about it."     I can't go back in time and let him set his cup on the counter, any more than my husband can go back in time and rearrange the tables at our wedding reception.  Sometimes you just gotta say "aw, shit" and get on with life.     Not that I am saying I am staying in this marriage.  There are a great many other, much more important unreconcilable issues going on here.  But let's not have more reasons or excuses than there need to be.  Surely I can forgive him this, can't I?  He knows (I hope) how much this hurt me; it can't be fixed, but I bet he wishes he could fix it.  The dancing at the Holiday Ball was a sincere attempt.     By the way, I don't normally talk about marital problems with my children.  I don't dump on them the way many parents in unfulfilling marriages do, though sometimes the temptation to say exactly what's on my mind can be strong.  I tried to not make Daddy sound like the villain here, just started out trying to illustrate a point for him and wound up learning a lesson.