Learning To Practice Forgiveness...For Yourself

Forgiveness is typically defined as the process of concluding resentment, indignation or anger as a result of a perceived offense, difference or mistake, and/or ceasing to demand punishment or restitution.[1] The Oxford English Dictionary defines forgiveness as 'to grant free pardon and to give up all claim on account of an offense or debt'.

Sounds pretty clear cut, doesn't it? Someone does you wrong and or you do someone wrong and you just let it go, right? Wrong...
For most of us, true forgiveness requires much effort, especially when we have been hurt in some way and resentment still lingers. We say we have forgiven them and we tell those who have asked that, "Oh yes, I have let that go".
But have you? Really?

Recently, I wrote a letter to someone who I had hurt some years ago. Because all I had an old address, I sent it to the old address in hopes it would be forwarded to her. I wanted to thank her and I wanted her to know how very much I appreciated her during the time we were friends. I had already asked her forgiveness many times as during the time I had been friends with her, I was very ill with bipolar disorder and as a result, my actions hurt her deeply but knowing her as I do, I do believe she forgave me.

The problem was...I hadn't forgiven myself. I still carried great guilt over the hurt I had caused. Yes, I was ill but that doesn't negate my actions and
I couldn't let go of the fact that I had wounded someone I had so cared about.
And I began to try and forgive myself. It wasn't easy and suffice to say that it took a great deal of reorganization of thinking. I had to honestly admit to myself what I had done and then begin to forgive myself for it.

Learning to forgive yourself for past mistakes is healing and healthy. We are all human and not a single one of us is perfect, although some of us may wish we were. Yes, I still make mistakes and because I am human, I always will. Just as you will...

But what I learned from my above mentioned friend, who was wise beyond her years and then some, the most important thing to remember when a mistake is made is to learn from it and if possible, try your best not to repeat it.

And for myself, I have learned the hard way that words hurt. They cut and they bruise and once they are spoken can never, ever be taken back. Yes, you may be forgiven but those words will always linger. So, STOP, THINK and PAUSE before you speak...most especially in anger or hurt. Because in the heat of things, the words you meant to say may come out totally different that you thought they might and irreparable damage could be done to a relationship that may mean a great deal to you.

Oh yes...and the letter to my friend? She never got it.
It was intercepted by one of her friends and I was informed of it.

And that's okay because I didn't expect a response and I didn't want one.
That letter was for her...but it was also for me. It was part of me 'forgiving myself' and closure to a very sad part of my life.
I'd like to think that what I wrote in that letter, she already knew.

And so, today I forgive myself for hurting you, my friend and I forgive you for hurting me.
And while I know you will never see this, its enough.
I did what I needed to do...for me.

Until next time My Dear Friends,

LadiofZen

The Agony of Long Goodbyes

I met my ex-husband Gary and the father of my 17 year old son, in 1989. My ex husband is an alcoholic and has been for over 30 years. And though I knew he drank when we met, the extent of his addiction to alcohol was not clear to me until a short time later. When I did realize it, I attempted to end the relationship. He promised me as he wept that that I was the most important thing in the world to him and he would stop drinking. He didn't.
Several months passed and again I decided to end the relationship and again he swore he would stop drinking. He didn't.
This happened more times than I care to admit here but finally there came a time when I simply could take it no longer and told him I was leaving him and why. He swore, as he had done so many times, that he would stop drinking and furthermore, to show he was serious, he would go into treatment to do it, which he did for thirty days.
He managed to stay sober for four months.

During one of our many arguments regarding his alcoholism, he swore if I gave him a son, he would never touch another drop, that he would never have a reason to because he would have everything he ever wanted; a woman who loved him and the son he had always dreamed of. I did...and so did he.

And later, I was told if I married him which I refused to do and in fact, had put off 3 different times by 'losing' the marriage license, he swore on his son's life that he would be a completely different person as well as a sober one.
He wasn't.

We divorced 8 months after our son was born. As the years passed and Gary's drinking grew worse, he began to fade from his son's life. Visits were few and far between and always colored by Gary's alcoholism. At first my son tried to keep in contact but after years of trying to remain close to his father and having no success, he simply gave up as his father drank on and on.

So it was with a great deal of sadness that I learned from his ex-fiancee last week that my ex husband is dying from throat and lung cancer. It wasn't a surprise as he smokes 3 packs of cigarettes a day as well as drinking everyday to excess but it was news that tightened my chest and brought tears to my eyes.
I had known that since his mother had died in 2003, that Gary's anchor in this life was gone and I had worried that his drinking would become uncontrollable. It did.

For the last several years, my son and I have literally watched as Gary has slowly, surely and with great deliberation, almost succeeded in drinking himself to death. And now after being warned over and over and over again to stop or at least slow down on his smoking, he has been diagnosed with throat and lung cancer.

This morning as I wept for my son, Jeff and for Gary, who always seemed at war with this world, I realized what agony long goodbyes are and that this had been a very long, very sad goodbye from a boy to his father and from a father to his son.

It mattered to me that Jeff might never get to say goodbye to his father in person before his death and it also mattered to me that Gary get the chance to say goodbye to his son. No, Gary would never, ever be the father that Jeff needed or wanted and now that Jeff was almost a man, he was able to accept that. It wasn't so easy for me. I had deep grief over the fact that Gary had chosen alcohol over his son as well as the pain his drinking had caused Jeff and I realized that I had to accept the situation and let go of the grief as well as the hope and dream that Gary would somehow wake up, realize what he had been doing all these many years and become that father my son had always wanted and needed. That was never going to happen and deep in my heart, I had always known. I needed to say goodbye for the last time.

And so, Goodbye Gary, Goodbye My Friend, for even through all the pain and bitterness, we were friends...Thank You for the gift of my son. Thank you for the times you made me laugh. Thank you...for just being You. I don't think you ever heard that before. I'm sorry for the pain you have endured all of your life. I'm sorry that the only way you chose to deal with it was with alcohol. Most of all, I'm so very sorry you missed your son growing up; for Jeff and for you.
I know you tried. He's turned out to be a hell of a man...You would be so very proud.

And to my son? I don't have to say much because my son and I have an unspoken understanding about his father. But I have said, "I'm so very very sorry, my son.
Life is not perfect and neither are people. Your father has an illness called alcoholism and it has affected his choices and so he has not always made the right ones...but he always loved YOU."

Until next time My Dear Friends,

LadiofZen

The Slow Death Of Empathy

Hugo Alfredo Tale-Yax, thirty one years of age and homeless probably didn't think that this day was going to be any different than any other day. He would be wrong...

Things began to go bad on that early Sunday morning on April 18th just after 5:30 a.m. on a Queens, N.Y., sidewalk.

On the surveillance camera, a woman is followed by a man who appears to be accosting her. Tale-Yax is seen walking towards the two in concern. What isn't seen is him being stabbed several times in the torso while trying to save the woman.

In seconds, the apparent attacker is caught by the surveillance camera running away. Authorities say the woman fled from her attacker.

Tale-Yax begins to chase the attacker but then collapses on the sidewalk.

A potential good Samaritan walks by and does nothing. So does the next person and the one after that. Over 20 people seem to notice a man hurt and bleeding on the sidewalk and do nothing.

Unbelievably, one man pulls out his cell phone, but instead of dialing 911, he takes a quick picture. Another man nudges Tale-Yax, rolls him over twice, seems to see blood, but then strolls away.

Tale-Yax lay there for nearly an hour and a half until someone called for help and at 7:23am, Firefighters arrived but it was too late for Tale-Yax, who because he saw someone in trouble and wanted to help, lay mortally injured and bleeding on the sidewalk.

Since some say that it is not unusual to see people passed out or sleeping in public in New York, some conclude it was 'just a mistake'. But others say New York isn't the first city where bystanders ignored an injured man.

Sadly, what was seen that April Sunday has been seen time and again.

In January in Seattle, a 15-year-old girl was brutally beaten unconscious and robbed by a group of teenagers while three security guards stood by and and did nothing.

In Hartford, Conn., a 78-year-old man was hit by a car as he crossed a street in 2008. The driver did not stop and 10 vehicles ( yes, you read that right...10 ) drove by as he laid in the middle of the road, bleeding from the head and injured, waiting for help.
And in 2003 in Washington, D.C., a man was shot at a gas station. Instead of calling for help, the witness finished pumping kerosene into a can, paid and drove off.

Teaching our children the importance and value of compassion and empathy is just as, if not more important, than 30 or 40 years ago. Exposing our kids to new and different people and situations through community service and helping them to understand and think critically about the media such as the incident in New York is so very important.

No one who passed Tale-Yax that day had to be a hero. They didn't have to jump into the fight. They didn't have to endanger themselves.
All they had to do...was dial 911.

Hugo Alfredo Tale-Yax, when he saw a woman in danger, chose to help and because of his courage and compassion, he died.

R.I.P. Hugo...I'm so very sorry no one helped you that day in April. Thank you for your courage, empathy and compassion.
Rest now, my friend, you did well...

Until next time, My Dear Friends...

Love and Light To All,
LadiofZen