Redos

I miss the puppy.
Lilly is really distraught.
"I knew the second it happened I had done something really bad. I just wanted to redo that second, take that back. I said, "God, please let it happen to me, not the puppy. Have you ever felt that way?"
Oh, yeah. No one who gets past 21 doesn't know that feeling. That's the horrible part of growing up: you make a difference. Maybe not in the big sweeping ways you fantasize about when you are young (or older--our culture is in the grip of an almost psychotic communal celebrity fantasy), but what you say and do can have almost unimaginable consequences.
When I was in high school, I went through a brief period of time when I had no friends. Heather was getting into some stuff that made me pretty uncomfortable and I backed off. But then I had no one to talk to. I didn't like anyone around me. I mentioned this to my English teacher, and he said, "Lower your standards." This rang like a bell. I did, and almost from that afternoon on, I suddenly had people to hang out with.
I ran into him at Office Depot a few months after I moved back to town and reminded him of his advice. "Oh my God," he said. "I told you that? I told a 15 year old girl that?"
"yeah..."
He flushed, right up to his shiny bald head. "I was 40 years old, when I said that, and I was really going through some stuff. I felt like a failure. I was only thinking about myself--I just hated teaching..my marriage was rocky....Haley. I don't know what to say. That was the wrong thing to tell you, and I'm so sorry. What I should have said was this: If you're having a problem with something or someone there's probably a good reason for it and you should listen to yourself, even if it means being lonely and not having someone to eat lunch with. Hold out, because the right people, the right friends will find you. Can I have a redo?"
I just laughed. "No worries." I didn't tell him that the reason we were at Office Depot was to buy a new computer, because my fiance had relocated to a mental institution in Florida, and his best friend had driven up with a moving van to collect his stuff. "Why are we buying a computer?" Lilly had asked. She was 6. "Can't we use Xavier's? Does this mean Xavier's not coming back?" Should have held out.
So yes, Lilly. I want a redo. Anyone who says they have no regrets needs an MRI to assess frontal lobe damage. They probably have trouble with the date as well. I know that Lilly loves the puppy more than she loves anything on earth, ever. I know that the love and trust Lilly has trouble finding for people was not a problem ever with Tonks. I know that hurting Tonks was the last thing she would have ever done on purpose. But she was frustrated, and she was doing her homework and Tonks was probably jumping up on her and Lilly got up impatiently and thrust her downstairs--too hard, too fast.
This is what I told her:
"You know, Lilly, Tonks is going to be okay. It's going to take a lot of time and effort and love, but she's going to be okay again. That's what the vet says. And you've learned a lesson that takes some people a long time to learn, but one that every human does learn--carelessness and anger can have unimaginable repercussions. And I also think you really understand now how fragile life is."
Lilly's crying.
"It's okay, sweetie. You're going to make it up to Tonks, and Tonksie will still love you. She's going to be incapacitated for 6 weeks, and you'll get to do her physical therapy and make sure she takes her pills. It's okay. It's just life and you screwed up, but it isn't as bad as it could be and you understand something important and we still love you and you still have your dog."
We don't get redos. But we get love and forgiveness.
We get to have it, and we get to give it. Thank goodness.
My concept of zen doesn't exclude this. I think this is the gift of zen--redemption. By waking to who you are and where you are at this moment, with these smells, these people, this carpet, this past--you automatically forgive--yourself and others--and live for love. It is the only thing that can get us through. Otherwise, our "redos" would sink us like concrete shoes. Peace to all beings.