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Forgiveness In The Time Of Christmas
By
Hayden B. Tompkins |
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Regardless of whether you are in the Christmas-is-an-American-Holiday camp, or Christmas-is-a-celebration-of-Christ-camp, or Christmas-is-an-awesome-reason-to-be-with-family camp, Christmas time pretty much involves family.
And even if you don’t celebrate Christmas, odds are that someone you love does.
The problem with family is that there is all that history you have with them. And with all the schmaltzy Christmas specials on, if you don’t have a particularly good history with them, Christmas can be a very painful time of year.
But never fear, denizens of the internet! I have the solution. And I know it works because I used it.
The Pain - How could I have possibly forgiven a man who consistently and systematically abused and terrorized his children? How could I possibly have forgiven someone who caused such lifelong damage that I and my sibling are still reeling from the effects of it? How could I forgive someone who actually tried to kill me?
Don’t let anyone fool you, it was not easy.
Everytime I started to think about him I would get even more pissed off. Who the [*] did that [*] think he was??? I even flirted with the idea of shooting him as a kid. I probably would have too if I had ever gotten access to a weapon.
As an adult, I seriously wanted to tell him off. Let him know exactly what kind of scumbag ‘parent’ he was.
Reality - The reality is that anyone who has had this kind of parent knows it is next to useless to try and get them to see what kind of damage they have caused.
Why? Because they are the victims.
Living in Anger - Like a romantic relationship, the relationship with whoeveritis has no closure. It seeps into everything you do, all your interactions with other people. I used to think it could only be resolved with his death. THEN I would be free.
I knew, intellectually, that the anger was poisoning my life. I knew that I was the only one it was damaging.
Yet everytime I saw a stupid Christmas something on t.v. I would be overcome with rage.
The Crap Cure - Writing a letter and not sending it did NOT help. Imaging coversations where I confronted him and told him what an SOB he was didn’t help. Imagining his death and constructing a eulogy of all the [*] things he did, didn’t help.
Ignoring it certainly didn’t help. Pretending we were a normal family made me just want to explode.
Meditating on my anger, visualizing it as a ball of light, and then ’releasing’ it didn’t work either. What the hell did that new-age, hippy idiot know about abuse??
Carpe Diem - Then one day I had a revelation.
I wasn’t someone who was inexplicably oblivious to my father’s motivations. I knew exactly why he took his rage out on his children. Disfunctional family background, extreme and excessive bullying of him and his brothers when he was a child, disappointment of his dreams in the music business, lack of a romantic relationship, being a single parent of two children, major money troubles, and a lot of alcohol contributed in this volatile mixture.
But one day, that day, I realized that if he was some random guy on the street - I would understand. I would empathize with him. I would lend him a much less judgmental ear. I have heard plenty of alcoholics talk about the things they did to their family, and I didn’t hate them.
What’s the difference?
I realized that I was holding him to a higher standard because he was my father. If he was some random guy I would have been apalled, but I wouldn’t have hated this man for decades.
What a difference.
Transformation - I changed my mind. I was demoting my father. From Dad, to Phil.
It’s seems simple. Almost stupid, but I can’t begin to express the difference it made for me.
I’ve even been able to talk to him on the phone and see him in person. Just some guy. Not my Father. I don’t tell him I love him, I don’t feel obligated to hug him, and I do wish him well. It just has nothing to do with me.
Author's Bio
See my bio page on SelfGrowth.com.
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