Holding Grudges

I'm going to preface this blog entry with: I'm going to be real and it may offend you but I do not offer an apology because it is my thoughts and feelings about my life. Our blog is a journal of sorts to me, a way to release frustration (or appreciation or opinions) on occasion. Take or leave it.

I was born and raised in the church, there every time the doors were open, so I know right from wrong. I've made bad choices in the past but I try to live the best Christian life I can today a) because I know it's what the Bible commands and b) because I'm setting a very important example to my sons in hopes that they too will follow after Christ in their adult life. HOWEVER, the one issue I struggle with is grudges. A friend can hurt me multiple times and I get over it but if someone I love is hurt you better watch out because I won't forgive and forget easily.
Lately I feel that Rob and I give and give and get nothing in return. I know, I know. A person is not to give in hopes of getting something in return. But my philosophy is "Do unto others as you want them to do unto you." Yeah, no such luck with that....with a couple exceptions. A lady from church graciously covered my grocery bill at Winn Dixie a couple weeks back when my check was rejected due to banking issues. An elderly neighbor across the street bends over backwards to go above and beyond to help me and the boys. (In fact I probably wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for her, a couple other people and our church family!)
Back to the grudge. Today I was in a perfectly good mood...until I got on the treadmill. You'd think it was exercising that put me in a bad mood but it was the fact that I could see out over our backyard and into the yard of the man who hit Fetcha. And he was in his driveway. It's been over a week since he hit her, 8 days to be exact. He has not once come over to ask how she is, nor has he asked how our son handled the news (knowing that our yellow lab died unexpectedly 10 days prior to him hitting Fetcha) nor did he offer to help with the vet bills. Nothing. After I got off the treadmill, P asked if we could go for a walk. I purposely chose to walk by his house to see if he'd say anything since Fetcha was not with us. He didn't. He did glare at me quite a bit, which I graciously returned. It took everything in my power- and probably God's- to keep my mouth shut. (Although I did make a passive-aggressive comment about people driving too fast, which pertained to something P had said just as we passed his house.) I don't blame him for hitting her. It was her fault and ours. But I do blame him for the nightmares he's given me of running back over her while she laid unconscious in the road. I blame him for his high and almighty attitude that he had with me and Rob, even after we explained that Ruby had just died. I blame him for worrying more about the damage that didn't exist to his patrol car than what our family was going through. I'd never in a million years act that way toward someone if I had just hit their family pet. I'd do everything in my power to right a horrible situation.
But, here I sit, with a horrible grudge toward this man and my blood pressure skyrocketing every time I pass his house. He wronged my family and our dog and for that I will hold a grudge until he does unto us as we would've done unto him if the situation was reversed. Forgive me.