Not because everything had been forgotten.
It hadn’t.
Some things shouldn’t be forgotten.
But because we had learned the difference between holding a grudge and holding a boundary.
That wedding taught us something I wish we had understood years earlier.
Love without boundaries isn’t always love.
Sometimes it’s permission.
And the day my son watched his mother fall into the mud and laughed was the day I finally stopped paying for his mistakes.
Not just with money.
With silence.
With excuses.
With forgiveness he hadn’t earned.
Because sometimes the most loving thing a parent can say to an adult child is the hardest word in the English language.
No.
And sometimes, that single word is the beginning of everything getting better.
