There is tomorrow, there is grace.

Brushing my teeth, I see the little beta fish Hannah got for her birthday.  It's her fish but as all pets go in families of young children, the pet belongs to the child in name and in actually under the care of mom and dad.  I had just changed the water the day before, with Hannah's help. (so she does contribute to the care of her little fish.)  His name was Sarah until Auntie Shelly told us that it's a boy because of it's colours.  So now there is a sign that you can read through the tank that says, "I love my fish. His name is Sunshine."

So I fed the fish and it reminded me about a "fish" conversation we had today.  We were on a "jog" as Hannah called it.  She initiated for us to go running.  Pushing little Naomi along in the running stroller, we had great fun.  Just us girls.  When we were almost home Hannah utters "I can't wait til March Break is done." Intrigued, I utter "oh, why is that?" "I wonder if it will be my turn to feed the class fish?" I chuckled and responded light heartedly, "that's funny, you don't even feed your fish now." She continues, "this fish has a different kind of food, kind of like seeds." ... and I don't remember the rest of the conversation.

I cringe even retelling this because it is evidently a BAD response from my part.  So the "old me" would have replayed this conversation over and over, battering myself that I just turned away from a great conversation with Hannah... (she was what is called "bidding" in conversation) so I just turned against her in response...  with this conversational pattern ... when she is a teenager, how could I ever expect her to open up to me ...

And well, these did fly through my head quickly as I flossed my teeth.  As I mentioned, that was the old me.  The new me has hope.  The new me is proactive.  And the new me doesn't dwell.  I decided that at an opportune time tomorrow, I will initiate a conversation with my dear girl. "Hannah, you know how yesterday on our walk you were telling me about how excited you are to feed your fish at school? I was a poor listener. Will you forgive me?"  Ah, and I won't plan the rest of the conversation from there.  But I'm thankful that I can ask for forgiveness. And I'm thankful she will forgive me.

I'm thankful that she is only 6 ("and a half").  I'm thankful that, as parents, we are not expected to be good listeners from the get-go, but we have moments to learn and reflect and work up to it. And even then, we won't get it always.  And maybe I'll also teach her how to remind me that I'm being a poor listener. I pray that will serve me well when she's 16 (and a half). Even then I will mess up.  When that happens, there is tomorrow and there is grace.

I'm thankful for Suns[h]ine