Long after I estranged myself from my parents, I heard through the grapevine dad was moving to an assisted living facility. His mortality hit me like a brick and a mixture of anger, guilt and loss washed over me. We might not ever reconcile. He’s the only dad I’ve got. We might not ever reconcile. This strong, menacing man was fallible after all. We might not ever reconcile.
I needed to do my part…
Since my initial estrangement from them, it was my heart’s desire to eventually reconcile. I knew part of this process included me forgiving them. It’s very hard to forgive while still hurting and it’s even harder when there is no apology. With God’s help, though, I did have a journey of forgiveness.
It’s evident now there was a pattern to this journey. I made progress when I thought about how badly he must have been hurt in order for him to hurt others. My heart would ache for the little boy he was and I would be sad for him. Having understanding in my head would give leeway in my heart. Then I’d have more flashbacks of his atrocities and lack of taking responsibility and my forgiveness meter would dip backwards. It was an ongoing and exhausting battle.
Forgiveness preceded by Anger…
It was hard not being able to stop the clock. It wasn’t the right time for him to die. We weren’t ready to reconcile, and I wanted a daddy. I wanted to help care for him through his final days. I wanted to pray for him in person. I wanted to talk and cry together and make up for what we’d lost. I wanted another chance, Dammit. It didn’t seem fair I was doing all this work trying to heal and forgive him at the same time while he just sat around getting taken care of. I was angry with him for what he’d done and angry with God for not making it easier. Thinking of dad dying pained me, though, and that longing for reconciliation tugged at my heartstrings.
No Hallmark Cards made here…
I strongly considered flying the 2000 miles to say goodbye in person. My emotional state was still too fragile, however, and just thinking about seeing him precipitated more panic attacks and nightmares. It became obvious taking this trip would be emotionally disastrous. It felt critical I offer what forgiveness I could, though, so I made the decision to write a goodbye letter instead.
By this time, I’d finally admitted to myself I wasn’t going to get a Hallmark Card version of closure. It wasn’t ideal and it sure wasn’t what I’d envisioned, but it was something. I told him I’d forgiven him to the best of my ability. I said it was ironic his heart was killing him when all I’d ever wanted from him was his heart. And, I said I wouldn’t be coming to see him; that the letter was my goodbye.
I never heard back from him and he died without us ever seeing each other again.
In order to continue healing, I’ve had to allow the entire range of emotions free access. Anger, grief, fear, guilt, and loss have all had their turn. Although there is no magic wand, God continues to mend my heart as I fumble to do my best. Me and this forgiveness thing…we’re still a work in progress as my journey continues.
How about you? What does your journey of forgiveness look like?
Jul 02, 2013 @ 08:21:43
I have enjoyed reading your blogs. Thank you for your courage putting your story out there. I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. My father, my perpetrator, also died before we achieved any kind of reconciliation. I was 23 years old engaged to be married and surrounded by family members who idolized my dad and his struggle to fight cancer that had been going on for some eight years prior to his passing. I wanted some kind of apology from him, but what I got instead was devastating. In one of our last conversations before he died he told me he wouldn’t have done any of those things to me if I hadn’t wanted him to. I’m 53 years old now and still wonder if I have forgiven him that one statement alone. Still, after all these years, all the family upheaval when I finally broke silence, dealing with my substance abuse/addiction issues, years of counseling, 30 years of marriage, and raising two beautiful daughters of my own, I feel I have achieved some level of forgiveness. What helped me was some amazing friendships with compassionate women, insights I’ve gained throughout my spiritual journey, and learning how to forgive, love, and honor myself. It’s not easy, unfortunately, I still think it defines who I am, and it’s not a done deal. But while I have been coping with the affects of my childhood abuse, my whole life has been happening. So…it is still one day at a time pretty much for me, and probably will be my whole life through. I hope that is not depressing for you. I’ve learned to accept and live with it, embrace it even. What choice do I have? Anyway, I salute you.
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Jul 02, 2013 @ 08:49:33
Hi Dana,
Your story makes my heart ache, but it’s not depressing for me. The fact that you’ve chosen to move forward despite the harm he did speaks to your strength and perseverance. His final lie to you must have been incredibly hurtful, and I can see why it still lingers.
I agree with you that it’s a lifelong journey of healing and our histories do define who we are regardless of how much healing we do. Our grid is forever shaped to a degree by the abuse.
Thank you for taking the time to share your story with me and reach out. I enjoyed hearing from you.
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May 29, 2013 @ 14:52:53
Jan 01, 2013 @ 00:17:08
Dec 27, 2012 @ 11:19:02
And, I just started following your blog…I’m looking forward to reading more of your writings. And the beat goes on…Thank you !
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Dec 27, 2012 @ 18:24:23
Thank you, Rich.
I’ve enjoyed browsing your blog, too!
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Dec 27, 2012 @ 19:20:07
Appreciate the nice comment and I look forward to reading more of your writings… HAVE A THE BEST NEW YEAR POSSIBLE !
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Dec 27, 2012 @ 11:05:25
I understand. I have the same situation with my dad, except he died before I had the courage to make our peace, before I had the courage to listen, really listen to him. A regret I can only carry because God will let us meet in heaven and be at peace with each other. If you get a chance listen to THE LIVING YEARS, BY MIKE AND THE MECHANICS, it’s a about 6 minutes and the words are very profound and make me cry everytime I hear it. Here is the link:
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Dec 27, 2012 @ 18:23:40
Hi Rich, thanks for stopping by -it’s nice to ‘meet’ you! Making peace is a difficult thing…I wish my dad and I could have reached a level of peace together, but it wasn’t to be. It helped to be able to accept that so I could move on, but it wasn’t easy.
Thanks for the link to the song, I’ll check it out.
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Dec 30, 2012 @ 06:50:13
Oh…. this is a major memory flashback. A month before my dad died while having his second heart attack, I wrote a letter of reconciliation and forgiveness to him. We had not seen each other or communicated at that point in over 8 years. He never answered my letter either, I’m not sure if he even read it. But at least I wrote it in time before he died, and it came from my heart.
My father died at the age of 53, in January, 1988. I was not-quite 35 at the time. Shortly after he died I heard that song, The Living Years by Mike and the Mechanics on the radio, and I bought the album. Then I played that song over and over and over again, as I grieved my father.
When I was 12, my parents’ marriage ended violently. My dad was arrested that night for coming so close to killing my mother that I had thought she was dead. He was taken to jail and then, because of the terrible shape he was in, they took him to a psychiatric hospital. My dad was in the psych ward for a couple of months. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia, and Multiple Personality Disorder. Beginning with my earliest memories, my father really did seem to be more than one person. He could be wonderful most of the time, and suddenly, unpredictably horrifying at other times.
It was a hard way to grow up, especially for me, as the eldest child, feeling responsible for everything and everyone. But it wasn’t until many years after my father’s death that it occurred to me how hard HIS life must have been. Right after he got out of the psychiatric hospital he went back to work, and he kept working and paying child support for the 5 of us kids while we were growing up. He worked right up until shortly before his untimely death. With hard-to-control type 1 juvenile diabetes, schizophrenia, and MPD/DID, somehow he still managed to faithfully support a large family!
I really do believe that most people, most of the time, are doing the best they can with what they have. This does not mean I will allow anyone to abuse me — not anymore — but simply that I try not to judge other people, because only God knows a person’s mind and heart. I’ve made many mistakes in my life, mainly due to my own terrible pain and brokenness. At the time, my mistakes, my sins, seemed like the right thing to do, or at the very least, I thought at the time that I was justified in my wrong choices. But the older I get, and the more I learn, heal, and grow in the Lord, the more I realize how wrong I have been in my life, about a lot of things…. so who am I to point a finger of blame, at anyone?
Yet God’s love and mercy covers it all! Not just my sins, but even the sins of my poor crazy broken abusive parents.
I think now that my dad’s dying so young was a kindness. Today my mother is in her late 70s,a widow since her kind and enabling 2nd husband of 40+ years died almost 3 years ago. Since his death she has become more hateful and miserable than ever. I would not want to be her, At All.
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Dec 30, 2012 @ 08:27:14
It’s so true, just writing the letter and letting go is the most important part. If they read it or not is part of their healing, not ours.
Your ability to understand his behavior came from his own pain reflects a deep understanding of yourself and human behavior. It isn’t easy to come to that place, but it’s very freeing. And, as you so eloquently put it, who are we to judge when we’ve made huge mistakes of our own, borne of our pain? We are all doing the best we can -it doesn’t mean it’s ok to hurt others, but it should give us more grace for each other, and more desire to do better ourselves.
My dad lived to 88 and probably tormented people nearly every day (including my mom). He must have been an exceptionally miserable person inside. I’m sad we were never able to reconcile; it was always a desire of mine. But I have peace knowing I did my part, to the best of my ability, and from my heart.
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Dec 30, 2012 @ 12:08:18
Oh my gosh… your dad sounds like my mother. My dad was psychotic but only occasionally mean; my mother was never psychotic, to my knowledge, but she is consistently mean and hateful. And, when she isn’t being hateful, she’s being phony — or so it seems to me. But I agree with you — how miserable must a person be on the inside, to behave that way on a daily basis?
In my search for answers, my “Madness Marathon” as I call it, this one word sums up the most important thing I am learning: Compassion. Compassion, for everyone.
But I have decided that I would far rather be “crazy,” than heartless and cold. It’s better to have a broken brain, than a hateful heart.
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Dec 30, 2012 @ 13:32:37
I like that title “Madness Marathon”! It’s very fitting!
So happy we can encourage each other along in this life-long marathon we’re on!
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Jul 07, 2012 @ 19:33:37
Lynn, I feel the same way…dealing with everything at once would be too much for me too.
I”m so glad for God’s work in your life. Thanks for sharing.
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Jul 07, 2012 @ 08:37:27
I did not realize how much bagage I was carrying around with me. I acknowledged I had a chip on my shoulder, I even liked carrying it around- it made me tough-I felt if I had it for my protection no one could hurt me. I was dilusional then. I still was hurt by many things my Mom and Dad did-and by anyone who acted like my parents. I am learning to forgive and to let go of the resentment from my past experiences. I feel lighter. I still have a mountain on my back- that God helps me deal with a little at a time, I believe if I delt with all of it at once it would kill me.
Now I try to act the oppisite of what I have done in the past. How do I show my parents and others I am different? On the days I feel grounded, I visit my parents and I try to be the best daughter I can be on that day. That is who I have always wanted to be. However, it is not how I have always been. I pick less fights, and now I am able to see where I have learned some of my distructive behaviors. God is showing them to me, then I ask Him to help me let them go. To my amazement He does. I am so greatful I am different. I am greatful for the time I spend with my family.
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Jul 05, 2012 @ 21:50:50
You’re welcome, Sheri. I pray peace and forgiveness will meet you right where you are.
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Jul 05, 2012 @ 16:55:41
Thank you Denise
I really needed this right now
Sheri
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