It plays over and over in my mind. A never ending merry-go-round. Only it’s less merry and more teary.
I’ve spoken about forgiving ourselves after a death. Of things we may not have had the chance to do during life.
What about the times we ourselves have been hurt? While we dwell on all the ways we could have done better, do we think enough of ourselves to treat others as we treat ourselves?
Something tells me we don’t.
We demand much of ourselves, exacting punishment with the ferocity of a wild animal and wounding ourselves with surgical precision. So many things we wish we would have done differently. So many times we wish our dead spouse would hear our tear-soaked cry for forgiveness.
But would we expect the same of others? Do we, in our grief and vulnerability, speak up when we are hurt? Do we demand forgiveness of others the same way we demand it of ourselves?
I know I don’t.
And I think it’s time I start. Demanding less of myself and asking more of others. As much as I’ve made mistakes, I’ve asked for forgiveness. And I’m grateful that I was able to receive most, even as he lay dying.
But just because he died didn’t mean he was perfect. And just because he was a practically perfect husband and father doesn’t mean that he only attracted practically perfect people. Or came from a practically perfect family.
The same with me. I brought in people who created pain, too.
A common event among the widowed is to elevate their former spouse to almost a divine-like status. The truth is my husband was wonderful, but he wasn’t perfect. And neither was I.
I learned, over 18 years of marriage, to ask for forgiveness. And to communicate when I needed him to do the same. We loved each other, but we both made mistakes along the way.
I did. He did.
Anything less would be to dishonor him as a man. And dishonor his beautiful heart that knew when it hurt me and ask for my forgiveness.
I’ve also had to work on forgiving others. Not everyone wished us well, wanted to help while he fought, nor did they listen to what we needed so desperately.
It’s not easy to forgive others. It’s easier to forgive ourselves because we control ourselves. We know we won’t repeat a behavior. We know to use softer words next time or simply walk silently beside.
We don’t know how others will receive it. Maybe they’ll wholeheartedly deny any hurtful action. Maybe they’ll choose to ask for forgiveness and yet still hurt you. Or maybe, just maybe, they’ll stop, reassess, and ask for your forgiveness.
Whatever the outcome, we have the opportunity to forgive without anyone even asking. Without needing a contrite or soft heart. Without the endless explanations. Without anything.
We can forgive.
We can forgive those who have abandoned us in our greatest time of need. We can forgive those who say hurtful things about us, to us, around us. We can choose to mend our broken heart by letting forgiveness pick up the pieces and glue it back together again.
I choose to forgive those who hurt us in their own hurt. Who left us behind. Who spoke terribly and stole time. Who did not respect the boundaries of marriage. Who still leave behind hurtful notes after so much time.
I forgive you. I forgive you because not to, would eat away at my very soul. I forgive you because I’ve been forgiven myself. And will need forgiveness forever.
I forgive you even though I don’t want to. Because it’s far more important that I build the bridge of peace and of forgiveness.
Because one day, I’ll be walking across it, hat in hand, asking for forgiveness. đź’™
#laughterafterdeath #lookingintherearviewmirror #itsme #lifebeginsnow