Forgiving but not Forgetting

Forgiveness is something that I have really struggled with. Almost all of our friends and family completely deserted us at the worst time in our lives. At the time that we needed people the most. We were drowning out in the middle of the ocean and they didn't even throw us a life raft. They just let us go under. That is unforgivable. Truly unforgivable. But I've learned that forgiveness is not for them. It has nothing to do with making them feel better. Because honestly, that's the last thing that I want to do: make them feel better.

Forgiveness is for us. It allows us to let go of that tumultuous feeling in our stomach that makes it feel like we are being stabbed just at the mention of their name or the site of their face. Forgiveness makes us feel better and allows us to go on and move forward. People that aren't able to forgive are the ones that are full of bitterness and harbor resentment. I don't want to be that type of person. I refuse to be.

I started working on forgiveness almost a year ago. I realized that most of the people that I was allowing my stomach to churn over didn't have any idea what they did to me. They certainly weren't upset by any of it and weren't up in the middle of the night thinking about how much they hurt me. Perhaps they had a little guilt here and there but no real regret. I was the one that was suffering. And suffering I was. So, with the encouragement of my pastor, I began praying hard. Praying that God would take this burden. That He would deal with them so that I wouldn't have to.

One of the first people that I worked on forgiving were some friends that we used to be very close with. She was there for me the first week and then we didn't hear from them for months. Many months. I didn't know how they could do that to us. I wanted to tell her how much it hurt. I wanted her to know how much pain she caused me. But that really didn't matter. I prayed that God would take the anger and frustration away. It took A LOT of praying but I did feel it lift. A few days later, we received an email from them with an apology. Evidently, they had read an email that I had sent to someone else explaining how we were all alone and all of our friends had physically walked away. How great was that? I gave it to God and He handled it. He let them know how they hurt us and I didn't have to. It really gave me a lot more confidence in furthering my forgiveness attempts.

As I worked to move forward, I started looking at a lot of my friends with pity. Instead of being angry with them, I felt sorry for them. Sorry that they weren't able to be the type of friend that I wanted to be. Sorry that to me, their lives seemed so superficial. They were so busy chasing their tales around, that they didn't even notice that I was drowning. Or they were too busy to care. Nothing that I could ever say would change who they are.

I was grateful that I wasn't that type of person. In the past I had always tried to run to someone that was hurting. But, especially now. This experience has changed me. So, I'm happy to say that I have forgiven all of them. I honestly don't feel that angst in my stomach anymore when I think of them. But, I will not ever forget how they treated me. I will not forget that they walked away when I needed them. I can't imagine ever being close friends again, but you never know. With God, all things are possible.

Family has been harder. With friends, I could forgive and move on to new friends. I don't need to interact with them anymore. But family is different. Family will always be family. We haven't even seen most of our extended family since the funeral. They all live within 30 minutes of us but there have been very, very few attempts to get together. We needed them to "be" with us on a weekly (and sometimes daily) basis. I can count the number of attempts to reach out on two hands. That was just not enough. Not even close.

It's also harder to forgive them because unlike most of our friends, we told them directly how much we needed them. We asked them in person to come over and spend time with us. We told them how much their absence hurt us. Each time, they would apologize but nothing changed.

Currently, I have absolutely no desire to ever see them again. I know that this is completely unreasonable and I need to figure out a way to get along. This is such a work in progress and I'm admittedly not there yet. However, I do see myself moving along in a positive way. This week we received an email from a family member. They expressed a desire for us to be closer and they weren't satisfied with our current relationship. They asked us if they had done something wrong or failed to do something. I couldn't believe it. They didn't even have a clue how they hurt us so badly. How is that possible?

If I would have received this email a few months back, I would have broken down in hysterics at the mere thought that they didn't even know what they did (or didn't do). This is how I can measure my progress. When I received it last week, I thought "crap", I don't want to deal with this right now. Instead of it hurting me and sending me down into the abyss, it was a nuisance. Just a nuisance. I have absolutely no desire to have any more "discussions" with them. We've been down that road and nothing has changed. I've finally moved forward. I believe that God sent me this email to show me just how much progress I've made. I am no longer living in the past and letting the past define who I am. I am in control (well, as much as God allows me to be) of who I am and where I'm going. I'm still going toward the blue sky. I have absolutely no desire to turn around and go back into the middle of the ocean. That is not who I am anymore.

All that being said, my walls are up. They are up high. Probably too high. I will not ever forget how people treated us. I doubt that I will ever really trust any of them again. If there comes a time that someone re-engages, offers an apology...a real apology... and requests to get together, I will consider it. If it's a good day and I have nothing else going on, I might accept. If it's a bad day, I will feel no guilt in declining. I will also work toward a better relationship with family. I want to re-adjust my expectations to be so that I can see them on Holidays and special events, have interesting (but not deep) conversations and walk away without any angst. I'm not there yet...but I'm trying.