My grief journey

Forgiveness

For the past year, I have been struggling with what it means to forgive. The Oxford English Dictionary defines forgiveness as 'to grant free pardon and to give up all claim on account of an offense or debt'. Webster has several definitions one of which is ‘to cease to feel resentment against’. And I’ve always heard the saying ‘to forgive and forget’ at church.

I had a really hard time even thinking of absolving the young woman who hit and killed my Mom. I really wanted her to pay for her decision to drive recklessly, because our family really paid the ultimate price. To me, she walked away with a $174 fine and I lost my future with Mom. And I think I also struggled with how could I forget what happened to my Mom?

I posted a discussion on a grief support web site – what does it mean to forgive. I wanted to see if others had similar experiences and how they dealt with forgiveness. The number and variant of responses amazed me. I got the “if you’re a Christian, then you are supposed to forgive” to “you should never forgive this person for what they did”. I was a little irritated by some, because no one seemed to have a similar experience so how could they give me advice on how to forgive in this particular situation?

But then there were two responses that really made me think. One was from an individual who said they were responsible for someone else’s death and they couldn’t fathom me forgiving this person, because this particular individual could not forgive himself (or herself). The other came from a woman whose entire family was killed by another person in a car accident. She said forgiving for her was a process and not letting the anger control her. She mentioned that when she does think about the accident, she does still get angry but doesn’t dwell on it. She said that since I was even posing the question could mean that I was in the process of forgiving.

Recently I met with the girl that hit and killed my Mom and, as odd as it may sound, I wasn’t prepared for the surge of emotions that came pouring through me. My plan was to confront her, say my piece and hopefully gain closure, maybe even forgiveness. All along I had hoped that this meeting would bring me peace, but as the date of the meeting got closer and closer, my anger grew.

Part of me wanted to enforce the Code of Hammurabi, an eye for an eye, and yet another part of me wanted to be evolved and show compassion and forgiveness. The statement “hurting people, hurt people” was never truer for me as it was at this point in my life. I was hurting and I wanted to know she was hurting too because from all that I knew about this young woman, she seemed to have walked away unscathed with a minor traffic fine.

The day of the meeting was intense. The grief and anger surged through my body like it had at different stages over the past year but all it once. I so wanted to be that person who could walk in and show compassion and offer forgiveness face to face, but I was pissed and the grief was as present as the day I found out.

Towards the end of the meeting, my anger did start to fade, perhaps from exhaustion, but the grief remained strong as ever. I wanted to know why and how this could have happened. But she offered no answers, she wouldn’t even look at me; perhaps she couldn’t. She said very little, but basically did say she was sorry.

At the end of the meeting she finally did look me in the eye and I could see that she was sorry; I could see she was scared. It did take a lot of courage to meet us face to face.

The more time has passed and the more I am able to process the meeting, the less I want her to hurt... the less I want to keep hurting. I’m beginning to feel less anger towards her. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still angry that it happened at all. I still want answers, but am accepting I may never get them. And it still miss my Mom beyond belief and I still cry more than I like to admit.

But I am starting to let go of my anger and I wonder if this means I have forgiven her or at least am in the process of forgiving her and that is offering me a bit of peace… after all as Gandhi says “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind”.

I know it's true

I found this on one of the online grief support sites that I visit. It brought me some comfort because I know it's true.

To my dearest family and friends,

Some things I'd like to say. But first of all, to let you know that I arrived okay. I'm writing this from Heaven. Here I dwell with God above. Here, there's no more tears of sadness; Here is just eternal love.

Please do not be unhappy just because I'm out of sight. Remember that I am with you every morning, noon and night. God gave me a list of things, that He wished for me to do. And foremost on that list, was to watch and care for you. And when you lie in bed at night, the day's chores put to flight, God and I are closest to you...in the middle of the night.

When you think of my life on earth, and all those loving years, because you are only human, they are bound to bring you tears. But do not be afraid to cry: it does relieve the pain. Remember there would be no flowers, unless there was some rain.

I wish that I could tell you all that God has planned. But if I were to tell you, you wouldn't understand. One thing is for certain, though my life on earth is over, I'm closer to you now, than I ever was before. There are many rocky roads ahead of you and many hills to climb; But together we can do it by taking one day at a time.

It was always my philosophy and I'd like it for you too; That as you give unto the world, the world will give to you. If you can help somebody who's in sorrow and pain; Then you can say to God at night......"My day was not in vain." And now I am contented...that my life was worthwhile. Knowing as I passed along the way, I made somebody smile.

So if you meet someone who is sad and feeling low; Just lend a hand to pick them up, as on your way you go. When you're walking down the street and you've got me on your mind; I'm walking in your footsteps, just a half a step behind.

And when it's time for you to go...from that body to be free, remember you're not going.....you're coming here to me.

Ruth Ann Mahaffey, Author