“I see now with different eyes. The eyes of age, the eyes of context, the eyes of seasoned love. The eyes of forgiveness; the eyes of getting on with a life.”

There were times when Aunt Min and I struggled. We were each going our own way; each of us had to make it through challenges that shifted and forged how we were with ourselves, in the world, and with each other. We were both strong-willed women, and our relationship was not without conflict. In my younger adult years, when I was trying to recover from some challenging experiences, I often heard her suggestions as criticism. Sometimes, neither of us was exactly easy!

We learned that there were certain places we couldn’t go, and we made it through, with love and respect and a basic faith in each other. I learned about forgiveness. I learned that sometimes, everything doesn’t have to be said, or defended, and I can just let go.

For most of my adult life, I had believed that forgiveness a) came because the person who had hurt you acknowledged the slight, and offered a meaningful apology, and, b) that you felt you could heal from the slight, and be okay. After a while, forgiveness began to mean something different for me – it meant joy and love and pain and hurt and anger and all the misunderstandings, tangled together – standing in the same place. Right inside of me.

I learned that no one is perfect; no relationship, no matter how rich or committed, is without trials. People are quirky beings! But wrestling with vulnerabilities and strengths and personal histories created a surprising gift we’d otherwise not have known. The love room became the place where, not only could I tolerate the differences, but began to appreciate them for the rough graces they sometimes were. Those differences challenged, and changed, who we were. The following is a little note from Year 2 of the Love Room Letters.

“In the love room, like grains of sand pressing against each other, we are both shaping and being shaped.”