Forgiveness

It is well known that Cary Grant had used LSD (at the time was not illegal) for therapy.

'Cary also credited his sessions with the drug for finally realizing he must stop blaming himself for any mistakes he’d made or the mistakes his parents had made in raising him. “Look,” he said, “they did the best they could given the circumstances of their upbringing. They made huge mistakes. All parents do. But I came to the conclusion that they’d done the best they could and I owed them so many things––the most important thing being the fact that I was on this planet. That’s when, for the first time, I truly started loving my father and mother. “I realized I had to stop blaming them for their mistakes and stop beating myself up for the ones I’d committed. I could beat myself up better than Muhammad Ali or George Foreman or any fighter you want to name.'

Royce, Bill. Cary Grant; The Wizard of Beverly Grove . Cool Titles, LLC. Kindle Edition.

Perhaps there is something to this that I had not considered. I mean, I did forgive my father to a degree. I forgave him for the past, even though the scars he left were still visible and during severe weather they always ached. Not the physical scars mind you. I do not have many of those, I am talking about the mental and emotional scars, and when I would hit rough patches, they sorely ached. But even with that, I did not hang these things over his head. I mean not really. To say I was no more affected by it was an untruth, who could say that? I do not know anyone who endures those things and is not still affected. Those are never cured; they are only managed. But that isn't forgiveness is it? Forgiveness is the mere act of not holding their wrongful doings over their head. And I did not. Nor was I ever asked for forgiveness. I should have told him. I should have told him I forgave him, right before they gave him the meds to help him die peacefully. I should have, but I did not know if he needed to hear it or if it would even matter because in his mind, he did not do anything wrong.

I forgave him, even let him back into my life, though at arm’s length. I stayed with him until the very end, until he died the last 8 weeks of his life, I never let him feel alone. At Least I tried not to. Whether he still felt that or not, I cannot know for certain. I do know he bragged on me to all the nurses. I am sure that was why because, I was there. He did not deserve it, I know. He deserved abandonment just like he gave to me, and beatings, with fists and wet hands, and hateful words and denials. He deserved those.

But who was I to give those to him? Just another person with ghosts of my own. And I knew that this was it for him. How would it truly hurt me to be there in his last days. And looking back, I would do it again. Because it is who I am. And he was my father.

Now my bio mom? In that I am week. It is true. I am not strong. I still have hate in my heart, but not because of the past, but because of the person she is.

I am thinking the true strong person is the one who can be unaffected by those who try to hurt you. Am I able to get there? That is my goal is to be able to endure their hate and not be affected. I still need further analyzation on this.

One thing I do acknowledge is, I am thankful for them to a degree. Else I would not be who am I, for better or for worse. I cannot change the past so therefore I must accept who I am, and love who I am, and they had their hand in it. Therefore, to love myself I must be grateful for their hand in it. And I am.

I am learning to take the bad with the good and be ok with the bad.