The Story That Won't Be Told

I wasn't holding a grudge. Not exactly.

But I remembered what happened.

I didn't keep it sitting on the top of my stack of daily worries

where I could review it at will

stewing over the details.

and plotting revenge.

But I knew where it was filed away

just in case I should ever need it

reminding me to never again trust that person too much.

I wasn't supposed to know anything about it in the first place.

It wasn't even about me.

I only knew about it because someone involved trusted me

and let me in on a few details.

I knew I didn't have the whole picture but I knew enough to figure it out.

Or I thought I'd figured out what really happened.


The people involved simply gave in to their weaknesses and made bad decisions.

And my family got caught in the crossfire of their battle.


Nothing we could do to stop it at the time.

In many ways we're still trying to regain our balance.


No, I wouldn't call it a grudge.

But I wasn't letting go of it, either.


Recently, I heard the rest of the story.

It was refreshing to know that my suspicions were correct,

and that those involved recognized their error.

And what it cost us.


There is no going back.

Nothing will really fix it.

Things happen and life goes on.

No need to even talk it out with those involved.


We do the best we can with what we have

and try to make sure that nobody else gets hurt.



No, it wasn't a grudge

exactly.

But somehow, my load is lighter today.