Our children look to us for guidance, inspiration, but most of all as an example of what they should be. I consider myself to be a decent role model. I'm not a junkie, alcoholic, nor am I a criminal. I believe in monogamy and am very loyal in a relationship. Of the thousand positive traits I could call off about myself, I'm certain there are equal amounts of negative I could share. I won't, because I really don't want to see myself in that light tonight, but that's beside the point. My children have been watching me closely over the years, and it has become evident they pay close attention during my times of struggle. They look for my reaction, lack thereof, and demeanor in every situation. I've told them for years "your attitude is the most important appearance. " I failed to realize there was one trait I was not accustomed to portraying....forgiveness.
I began seeing a wonderful man months ago, and like most relationships, we found ourselves at a crossroad. Whether it was the influence of others on our relationship or the grass looking greener on the other side of the perverbial fence, we took a break. This break to me was final. I've said for years, I will not give second chances, and my tiny humans were listening. My daughter, who is the oldest of the 4, saw the hurt in my eyes. She saw my tears. She witnessed my pain and had many questions, to which I should've thought better of the answers. I spoke with emotion rather than wisdom, and for that I will be eternally remorseful. None the less, she adored this man before the split. After a month apart, when I'd managed to regroup and fall into a new rhythm, he returned. My initial instinct was to run. Why would I put myself through the same hurt I'd already experienced? That's not what ended up happening. We started as friends again, but my heart was captured right away, despite my mouth spouting otherwise. Again, my daughter was watching, questioning, and mostly forming her own opinion.
She couldn't refrain from asking the same question over and over again. "Mom, why would you be his friend? You always tell us never to let someone hurt you twice." This question kept resonating in my head, and I couldn't help but see I hadn't taught the most important lesson of love and forgiveness. I gave a valiant effort in hiring the highlights with hopes she'd understand, but day after day her disrespect towards him grew. On one hand I was flattered. She'd expressed multiple times her hatred for me, and yet being angry with him because he'd hurt me proved she cared. I somehow had to find the right words. We had to have a balance. The words came in the worst moment. I was reminded of the good Lord's love when I was having a hard time liking her. It was then I had the perfect teachable moment.
I sat and explained to her that though someone betray us, we must forgive them. Yes, earning trust is important, but we didn't earn God's love. He gave it freely, even though day after day we failed Him. She seemed to grasp it....and then the unthinkable. "Mom, if that's the case, why can't you forgive daddy? You don't have to like him, but you should forgive him." OUCH!! Smitten by my own lesson! !
It hadn't occurred to me that I may have moved on, but I was continuing to hold a grudge. I despised him for the pain he'd caused. I resented the way he ended our marriage. I loathed him for his lies and deceit. Somehow I had to find a way to let go of it. The only way I would find myself worthy of forgiveness would be to give it.
I haven't mastered the task. I struggled daily with forgiving him, but I knew I must. The man I knew is dead and gone. I don't know the man that's caused such heartache, which is what makes forgiving him easier. I can excuse a stranger with greater ease than someone who has an emotional attachment. The breakthrough came when I made this connection. I've always said death is much like divorce, only death is final. The man I loved died that august day after telling me he didn't love me anymore. He was buried the day he explained he was "still trying to live with me and love me, no matter what I looked like." His memory had been laid to rest, and the man I deal with today is merely a stranger with an ax to grind. This was the revelation I'd waited for. The fat jokes no longer affected me. The rude texts and harsh words became nothing more than empty banter. Comical at times, but meaningless. Forgiveness found him, somehow in the disconnect. It was then I saw, I had finalized the moving on process. I no longer wanted the fight. My goal was peace. I just wanted peace. It was the greatest weight lifted from my shoulders. For the first time in 4 years, freedom was felt deep within my bones. I had learned that even the unforgivable was forgiven.
For the memories, I must say thank you, but also for the lessons. Peace be with you.
