If I was a tree and the axe came to me for forgiveness, before I could render any kind of decision, I would tell the axe, “It’s not up to me to forgive you. But it’s up to you to forgive yourself.”
Thank you Callmedanielle. Yes indeed, forgiveness is a very powerful gift.
I grew up with an abusive father. He was the axe and I was the tree. Over two decades ago a few years before he passed away. He wanted to see me. I was on edge if I was going to see him because of his negative nature. But I did persevere and saw him. In tears, he asked for my forgiveness for all the terrible things he had done to me. He said he has always loved and admired me. Without hesitation I unconditionally forgave him. I mean why should I continue to carry baggage from his abusive past. He was amazed I forgave him so quickly. For me it was very liberating. Sure the abusive tapes from the past still play. Yet along with my forgiveness all I can do is feel sorry for his misgivings.
I don't know if I would have been able to do it, I know people usually say forgive him not for himself but for me... I'm just not there yet. Parents are suppose to be protectors not tormentors. Did he say anything else after you forgave him, or did you leave
He kept telling me that he has always respected me and that I have such courage in life. He said how my courage would make him jealous. He felt horrible for all the torment he caused me.
As I was listening to him while he was being so vulnerable in tears in front of me, I was thinking, ‘well I could read him the riot and really give him a piece of my mind and tell him what a f—ker he was to me.’ But if I did say that ... I would have been reduced to his level and acted just like he did all those years ago. Why be like him? Why should I be bitter? To continue to carry the emotional baggage? No, I think not. Then I said to him, “I forgive you.” Then I just sat there holding his hand while he wept. I actually admired the chutzpah he had knowing I could have railed him. But I chose to be compassionate instead and let him cry it out.
It was so amazing how freeing that felt to me. Sure the tapes still play where he’s the axe and I’m the tree. But you see, by my forgiving him, his axe never did chop down my tree.
He passed in 2001. I still remember him as a monster when I was a kid. But by forgiving I feel sorry for him. Obviously he had mental health and esteem problems. Sad very sad.
Forgiveness is powerful, hun. It shows when we forgive that they were the dull unsharpened axe and we were always the flourishing happy tree.
If you choose to forgive, do it when you feel ready. Remember, the one who forgives is the one who wields the power of letting go of a painful past.
There are moments when reading a poem where feeling and form (and by form, I mean any element of poetry) coalesce and the impact is so visceral it leaves a kind of hidden mark on the reader -- something that stays with you long after you've read the poem -- sometimes, it's a whole line or verse; sometimes just sounds or images or metaphors. I probably have thousands upon thousands of such invisible imprints in my mind and I'm grateful for every one of them.
Today, I add "it doesn't pick into my stomach" to the tapestry and I'm grateful.
Thank you for sharing with us something so personal.
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