i was almost asleep after a midnight potty run for atlas – half in dreamland, half out, disoriented and groggy and heavy – when he got off the bed and began to pace back and forth between the bed and the door.

(the door to this room is always closed – it’s a cat-free zone – so he needs me to open the door.)

atlas paces when he needs a potty run, but he had just gone, so i was sure he didn’t have to go again.

he also paces when his stomach is bothering him and he needs to vomit, but this is always accompanied by a very vocal stomach and his was silent, so i was pretty sure it wasn’t that either.

back and forth, back and forth, he paced.

atlas came over to me – when he wants me to do something, he stands in front of me and tries to communicate with his eyes – and i felt a spark of anger burst into flame and i whisper-yelled at him to “go and lie down”.

he jumped on the bed, then jumped off.

back and forth, back and forth. atlas stares, elizabeth whisper-yells. jump on, jump off.

repeat, repeat, repeat.

finally, i grumpily and noisily got up and brought atlas outside into the cold, snowy night.

he walked over to the snow-covered grass, then came back to me.

oh, was i furious.

i whisper-yelled “we are not going inside until you go to the bathroom” and pushed him toward the grass. atlas walked to the grass, came back to me, and looked up at me sadly.

i did not relent. i whisper-yelled again and pushed him toward the grass. he walked to the grass, came back to me, and looked at the ground.

repeat, repeat.

finally, still upset, i opened the garage door and let him inside.

while i was wiping the snow off his feet, i woke up.

i wasn’t really mad at atlas.

i was frustrated. atlas’s needs and movements often interrupt my sleep, even more so since we arrived here, and sometimes i just really really need/want a few solid hours of sleep.

i was worried about atlas. he has been sick quite a bit since we got here. what if he was too old and the move was too hard on him. he was doing so well, and now he’s not. what if it’s all my fault.

as soon as we entered the house, i realized that something was wrong.

atlas’s back was arched, his belly was large and tender, and he walked through the kitchen with his head close to the floor like he was going to vomit.

i spent the rest of the night taking care of him.

i spent the next day taking care of him.

all the while, i berated myself. because i was mean to atlas at all. because i was mean to him when he was sick and needed me.

but then, later that evening, something occurred to me: i was mean to atlas for maybe fifteen minutes.

fifteen minutes.

i saw his whole life, with the moments i was unkind to him – the moments that feature in my thoughts often, when i am berating myself for things i’ve done wrong – next to the moments i was loving and kind.

when i saw the lifetime of moments, i was filled with so much tenderness and forgiveness for myself.

i am human. i am imperfect. i am going to make mistakes. i am going to have moments when i wish i had behaved differently.

i know those moments seem so awful to me, so far from how i want to behave, that surely they must outweigh the whole.

maybe sometimes they do.

i want to be able to forgive myself for them anyway.

i also saw that sometimes i do the same thing to others: i let moments of unkindness overshadow a relationship full of love.

and of course i would. i do it to myself.

i just hope that as time goes on, it takes less and less time to find my perspective.