Nikki Lee Health

For most of my life, forgiveness was an abstract and desired goal, the final square on a spiritual game board that had no rules. I had a vision of forgiveness being an instant, magical event, with a spotlight coming down from heaven to shine on me, and angel voices singing, with a vast improvement in my life along with other rewards.

In the past 25 years, I’ve had the experience three times; each act of forgiveness was radically different from the others.

The first forgiveness was as dramatic as the sudden news that my daughter’s father had collapsed and was having brain surgery.  In that moment, seeing our daughter transform before my eyes into a terrified child, I felt my heart turn over and empty itself of any rancor towards the man who had made our lives miserable for years. None of that long legal battle for custody mattered any more; I wanted her father to live.  Forgiveness was a definite and powerful physical sensation. Even today, 22 years later, I feel only curiosity about him.

Loretta was a childbirth educator, with whom I worked, and even supervised when I became acting head of our department. She was a nuisance; nothing pleased her, even when I tried my best to be fair to everyone. She constantly complained in a whiny voice that got under my skin, and was never satisfied. I prayed to forgive her, realizing that much of what she did that annoyed me was present in me. What I disliked in her, I disliked in me. I prayed for a few years; during that time, the department dissolved, and we never saw each other.

I ran into Loretta again, years later, when we were attending the same conference. I surprised myself with my delight in seeing her; she too, was surprised at my happiness to see her again. She thought I was happy to see her; I was happy because I realized that all my negative feelings about her were gone. I was thrilled to feel that I had forgiven her. We could be relaxed together. My second experience of forgiveness was different to the first.

The third experience of forgiveness was fought in the trenches of anger and pain, born of betrayal and unconsciousness. For 6 months after a daughter blew up at the Christmas dinner table and blasted me with all her childhood wrath, standing and yelling, and stunning the rest of the family into silence, I wanted to reach out to her. Every time I thought of calling or writing to her, the pain would rise and push that thought away.

After a few months, I remembered her family’s pattern of holding grudges. When she went to her grandfather’s funeral, she had met a whole branch of her family that she didn’t know existed, because of some ancient feud. Her aunt is not speaking to her first-born son, because of some offense. Her grandmother died having never seen her son again, after an incident involving the lack of a visit at a family bar mitzvah. My daughter’s family has perfected anger as a family dynamic.

I was deeply hurt.  I wished that she would call me and apologize, and grieved that she never did.  I could see how easy it would be to expect that she should reach out to me first, and for me to wait for that to happen. But then, what if it took years for her to reach out?  Life is short and things can happen. I didn’t want death to close the door on our relationship, with one of us left to mourn and feel sad at the wasted years of distance.

I continued to keep my distance because it hurt to think of reaching out to her and I feared being hurt again, until one day when I impulsively sent her a text and our communication resumed. . Now, 2 years after the explosion, we are better. I have forgiven her, I feel certain that she wants to keep our connection, and, we are not done.

Sometimes, forgiveness starts with intention, and has to be nurtured while it grows. At other times, a crisis can reframe everything, so that what is most important emerges.

I have, according to my therapist, about 80% forgiven my mother. I don’t know how much I have forgiven myself for what I have done to people I love.

Like life, forgiveness is a unpredictable journey, and a worthwhile process.