
I posted this as a note on my Facebook page, but here I post it again because it's just that important.
I have come to realize that I have suffered because of my own doing much of my life. I focus so much on what people do to me...the acts and offenses that they have committed against me, which in turn causes me to suffer since I often cannot let go of those transgressions. In addition, I have let the bitterness and anger of another permeate and cloud my own judgment to the point where I carried it as my own. No longer.
This weekend I faced a lot of emotional pain and heartache, but I also mended wounds that have been open a long time. Pain is a necessary part of life, no one escapes it...but suffering for it is an entirely optional consequence that way too many of us choose.
My grandmother on my father's side passed away in 1996. As my parents had divorced a few years prior and I had no contact with my biological father, we didn't find out right away. In truth, we didn't find out for a year and a half later when my mom decided to call the nursing home where her former mother-in-law was to see how she was doing. That's when we heard the news. As it turns out, no one was at my Grammy's funeral...no one at the visitation. She was a ward of the State and no one, except my dad, knew that she had passed away. I held on for dear life to that anger and rage that transpired because of it. I was so angry with my dad that I swore I'd never talk to him as long as I lived. I carried that bitterness, which complemented the rest of the resentment and anger I had picked up from others about him. I held onto it, I held onto it tighter than the positive things I had going for me. I had a reason to be angry. I had a reason to hate him, and in order to do that I had to hold on to it.
When I turned 23, well after my high school graduation, wedding, and obtaining my B.A., it hit me that all the anger and distaste I had held onto for so long was no longer my own. I decided to write him a big long letter telling him everything he did to me...that I knew about this or that...about Grammy. Everything. We've never spoken about that letter, and you know what? That is perfectly fine with me. He knows everything that had been swimming around in my brain during the ten or so years I refused to talk to him. He is now 70 years old and having lunch with him last Thursday, I realized we'll never have a father/daughter relationship like we should have. But that is okay.
And I got to say goodbye to my Grammy on Friday when we found her grave in Pine Lake Cemetery in La Porte Indiana. I cried and cried and knelt over her. I talked to her because it had been so long. I said I was sorry for not being there for her when she died. I'm sorry no one was there to say good bye. I'm sorry that we were not able to be there in the end. And then I said good bye. I said good bye like I had wanted to 13 years ago.
On Saturday, I said good bye to my other grandma. I had gotten into a fight with my mom at Christmas and refused to talk with Grandma on the phone because my grandma wasn't aware of my separation and divorce. My mum and I didn't see eye to eye on how to deal with the phone call. So I simply refused. I didn't know that she'd die a month later. The guilt was horrible...I should have talked with her, I should have spoken with her and put my anger aside. But I didn't. And I will always have to live with that.
I am forever thankful I got the chance to say good bye to her because my family was so gracious in delaying her burial (she was cremated) until what would have been her 87th birthday this past Saturday. Both my brother and I were able to say our good byes, something we were denied so long ago.
I feel like I lost an entire generation this weekend. I have no other grandparents. I am emotionally spent and utterly exhausted. My mood is monotone. But the connections I made this weekend with my extended family must be fostered and cared for. I have been way too out of touch with my family, that I want to change it and nurture it from now on.
I will tell you this...LIFE IS TOO SHORT TO STAY ANGRY. Yes, I'm talking to some of you in particular. Whatever happens in your life that causes you to focus so much on "he did this to me and it sucks" or "she did that to me and I'm pissed," it can consume you to the point of where you neglect relationships and lose out on some very precious people because you were too angry or too pissed to see past it. You never know when your number is up, or when your friend's number is up...or if you'll see certain family members again. YOU NEVER KNOW. Why take the chance? I never got an apology...one that I thought I was owed, one that I thought I needed in order to forgive. But all in all I needed to forgive myself before I could forgive others. And waiting to be ready to forgive is never going to happen. Forgiveness isn't for them...IT'S FOR YOU.
I forgave myself this weekend. I forgave myself for missing my Grammy's small visitation in 1996. I forgave myself for getting angry at my mom and missing out on talking to my Grandma one last time back in December. I forgave myself for being ashamed of who I am, with my piercings, tattoos, divorce and all. All we have on this planet are the PEOPLE in OUR LIVES. Jobs, cars, houses, computers...it's all just worthless and nothing more than stuff we acquire. What matters are people, the relationships between family and friends that we build and grow. Those are the important aspects of life.
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