I went to a wedding on Monday night, for a friend that "dumped" me. Three years ago she met a man in February, she was engaged to him in Mid March. She was going to marry him in June. Now, I'm as much in favour of romance and love at first sight as the next person. But this particular gentleman, he didn't have a job. He was staying with friends. He had, as Oscar Wilde, might say, 'No prospects'. And the marriage, it looked like a car wreck, coming down the road really quickly. And I was, concerned. This was my dearest friend. She was like my other mother. And I was watching the potential for her life to fall apart. Over a man that Mr. Spit and I called "Igor".

So, when she suddenly didn't return my calls, I was shocked. Actually, truth be told, I didn't realize that I had been dumped for about 6 weeks. I'm stupid that way, or at least I was. I'm probably hyper-sensitive to it now. But the betrayal, the hurt, the pain, they lasted for a long time.

I ran into her last year, and we picked up a few bits of our relationship. She wound up meeting someone else, the original relationship fell apart before the wedding. We're invited to the wedding to the new guy. When a friend said "so, you are friends again?", I hesitated. Friendly. But friends?

I come back to a story.

A young boy had a terrible time with saying things in anger. His grandfather, trying to teach him about the power of words, made him go hammer a nail into the fence every time he lost his temper. And so, for weeks this boy put nails in the fence. But he learned. And then, there came weeks when he didn't loose his temper, and he would remove a nail from the fence. At the end, there were no nails left in the fence boards.

But, if you have ever used the hammer end to remove a nail from a board, you know about the ugly hole that remains. A hole that is gaping, filled with splinters, indeed, sometimes made larger, more prominent, more visible. The wood, it looks almost better after you pound nails into it. There is something in the holes that is heartrending to see.

I have been thinking about the process of forgiveness, and the holes that are left behind. Because, removing the nails is the act of forgiveness, but nothing seems to remove those holes. Perhaps time, perspective, they make the holes less raw, but they don't remove them. And, to carry on with the visual, eventually, when a board becomes too hole-ridden, you throw it out.

And so, I went to a wedding. I bought a gift, a new dress, and I'm went to a wedding. And I will be friendly. I'm not so sure about friends, though.

I'm not sure about those holes. I forgave. And it was a good lesson to do so. I so often need forgiveness. I can't see how I would be stingy with it. But, I must confess, I don't know what to do with the holes that remain.