forgiveness

One of the reasons that I can't make up my mind about my religious beliefs is the problem of "forgiveness". Frankly, I'm not sure I believe in it. And I'm very sure that you can't make yourself forgive someone—it seems like an emotion that's either there, or it's not, and all the 'want to' in the world can't make it come until it comes from inside you. (Actually, that's a pretty good description of my feeling about religion, as well.)

I've been thinking about forgiveness in the last few months because I think I have finally forgiven my mother. When she died a couple of years ago, it was my hope that her death would mean I finally had my mother back, that I could see her as she was when I was a child instead of having to focus on the alien that inhabited her body in the last decade of her life. Sadly, it didn't happen that way immediately. Instead, all my anger and my sense of betrayal and disappointment came to the surface and I rejected the good memories because they were too badly tainted by the bad ones. I was disappointed by that, but I didn't think it would do any good to dwell on it, so I put it away in the back of my mind and tried to leave it alone.

Then, a few months ago, I started noticing that I was thinking about her more. Thinking about things I wished I could tell her, or things we had done together, or just seeing pictures in my head of our moments as a family. Surprisingly, it kind of sucks—because now I miss my mom. I'm still angry with her for choosing to throw her life away with both hands instead of embracing it and being here for all this good stuff that's happening now, but I think I'm beginning to understand that it wasn't as clear-cut a choice as it seemed. And maybe to accept her for who she was, instead of placing her on childhood's pedestal or condemning her for her human frailty.