Decontructing Terrible, Take 2
#2: My Father
He’s in prison. I’m not sure why I started with that, but I’ve written about it before. Anyway, I wrote him. I want to love people. I want to love myself. I can do neither until I forgive him the unforgivable. (Not loving me? Not wanting me? Abusing me? I’m not sure what’s more unforgivable. Lately, I think, not wanting my forgiveness.) I wrote him, and weeks passed and I’d resigned myself to nothingness. I guess it’s okay, I thought. It broke me anyway. The lack of anything. I was sad. I attributed it all to a crappy year.
But then, I realized, that I wrote him. As terrified as I am of him, or of being hurt AGAIN by him, I wrote him. And I might be crazy, but I’m on the road to forgiveness. To forgiving him, and forgiving myself for loving him, but not enough to help him.
Besides, he wrote me back. I don’t know what he said yet, but he wrote me back, today. I’m resting my hands on the unopened envelope right now. I’ll read it one day. And write him back. And we will never be the father-daughter duo I imagine in my head, but… we might be something else. Forgiveness. This year, full of reminders that my family isn’t how I want them to be, is gonna teach me forgiveness and grace. I’m gonna learn to love that man who made me and almost broke me. We share blood and tenacity and little else, but I’m gonna learn to love him.
2010, I’m unraveling you. Your stumbling blocks are only making me love God more.