Unconditional Forgiveness

Only in speaking of that which is unspeakable can unconditional forgiveness begin to heal the wounds of our past.

Dearest Sisters,

I thought I would go ahead and drag you a little farther up the road with me. There is a nice gentle wind blowing. The weather is warm. The sky is as blue as our oceans used to be. All is well with the world, our little private world anyway.

I was thinking while I boxed papers today about our shared existence. It seems a short while in our over all time here thus far. Do you remember the old TV show The Wonder Years? It was of course about childhood. When I look behind me I see more clearly that our childhood really is The Wonder Years.

My newest grandchild, Mister Carter, I like to call him, a mere one-year-old reminded me of the wonder of our childhood years. One sunny day while out in his little backyard he became frozen for a good minute in the same spot. He was balancing himself on all fours staring intently at the sidewalk. I bent over, placing myself into the same position as him, stayed perfectly still, and followed his stare. It took my eyes a second to see what had caught his attention. It was a tiny light colored ant walking across the sidewalk.

There it was, through the eyes of a small child, the simple beauty of things. I loved being a mother, especially when my children were young enough to still be in awe of the world around them. I love being a grandmother because I can relive this wonder over and over again with them.

My second husband told me after I broke us apart and spilt us up, "You made me believe that no matter what I did you would never leave me. So I didn't do anything."

I think as a species Humans have done the same thing to our precious planet earth.

My second husband thought because my love was free he didn't have to take care of it. He believed he didn't have to nurture it in order to help it stay strong. He overlooked the wonder of being loved because it didn't earn him the amount of money he felt he needed in order to be happy.

Anyway, as I was saying...

While I was folding papers I thought about my question to a friend. "In forgiving are we not acknowledging the truth of what it is we are forgiving?"

We grew up in an environment that did not promote a sense of trust in the world around us. This is our truth. It is -- what it is. I accept this. I forgive the knowledge of the pain and loneliness the past wroth upon us. I forgive our father for raising us in the eyes of shame, rather than the arms of love. However, my unconditional forgiveness will not help him sleep any better at night.

Mama is right.

Mama tells me, "He remembers what he is guilty of. This is why he cannot sleep at night. This is why he is so mean sometimes."

We couldn't speak of our deepest feelings, or our deepest hurts, when we were young. We dared not. We all understood. Even with each other we never broke this code of silence.

Born in silence -- Raised in silence -- Died in silence.

I decided when our brother Terry died I would not die the same way. I do not want to die being ashamed of the life I have lived.

In speaking the truth now, through the written word, I am doing what I can to help heal us all. All I ever wanted when I was looking up at the world was to speak freely about my deepest hurts. I absolutely knew that to speak the truth was quite impossible. So I developed an inner world where I spoke my truth without fear. I did not understand that I was learning to live in mindfulness. (Being aware of being aware of being here). I was learning to trust God to hear my words.

I remember something I once heard in an old Shirley Temple movie, "The best writers are those who write about what they know." I stored this little piece of information in my 'retrieve this at a later time file,' and got on with the business of growing up safe in unsafe environment. In '68 I began writing poems. This was six months after I left home at fifteen. In '77 I began keeping a personal journal. In these journals I wrote from that place deep within myself where truth lives and breathes and is free.

My writings are not for our parents. I cannot force them to travel where they are not willing to go. I can however reach out to a broader world and in some small way help others who must walk a similar path learn to avoid the stumbling blocks the fickle hand of fate will place in their way.

I once wrote in my journal, "Forgiveness heals the soul of the forgiver."

Unconditional forgiveness: Is it possible, really possible, to offer unconditional forgiveness for an unforgivable sin?

Karen gets a little angry with me when I tell her that I believe, 'we all are God. Rather, to make it seem less like I am saying we are supreme beings, I shall amend it to saying we are all pieces of our original father, who is God.

Now having said we are related to God, then it is within our power to offer unconditional forgiveness. Does this unconditional forgiveness benefit the receiver or the giver?

In forgiving are we not acknowledging the truth of what it is we are forgiving?

In our family the truth is a one-way street, a street where our parents walk on one side and their children on the other.

I am angry with our father. I am angry that even now, in the last few months, or years, of his life he continues to hold his children responsible for the outcome of his life. I am angry that even now he will not 'let us in.' He will die leaving us all here in this place where we cannot speak of the unspeakable. He is wrong to do this.

When death comes calling for us the time to withhold the truth has long since passed.

In Heaven my unconditional forgiveness to our father will mean something for him. Here on this earth there is very little my unconditional forgiveness will gain him.

Unconditional forgiveness must first come from within him. "To find God go within. Go within or go without." (Conversations With God)

Our brother died in a sad and lonely place. His last words on this earth, "I am not worth saving," shall forever haunt my mind. Our father will die in the same place and in the same way. For this I am sorry, for him, for me, for all of us.

Back in '89 I wrote in my journal, "I can show you where the light is, I can even turn it on for you. But I cannot force you into that room. You must be willing to walk in there by yourself."

What is true for me must be able to stand as truth for all.

By expressing my unspoken anger over past heartaches I am not judging our father. I am in fact setting him free. More importantly, I am setting myself free. I am in fact offering him my unconditional forgiveness. However, if our father's soul remains closed to this forgiveness he will die never knowing how much he is loved in spite of what he is guilty of.

For this I am sorry, for him.

Peace and long life.

 

 

 

Love does not equal silence.

Author's Note

Unspoken anger is misplaced fear.