Feeling Forgiveness

“To err is human; to forgive, divine.”

The above excerpt from “An Essay on Criticism,” written by Alexander Pope in 1711, remains a timeless popular proverb nearly three centuries later. It has taken me more than five decades to fully grasp the intensity and depth of this seemingly simple statement. Fortunately, I have now found an internal peace in feeling forgiveness and I celebrate Father’s Day this year with true sincerity and serenity.

As the eldest child of addicts, I was the family’s peacemaker and caretaker. Emotions were not an option. If I remained calm, focused, and task oriented our lives were somewhat structured. Any evidence of anger or acts of insecurity resulted in uncontrolled verbal rage directed towards my siblings and me. It was easier to take the blame for whatever was wrong on any given day and bury my feelings behind a thick protective mask. Without knowing it, I became numb.
Numbness equaled no enthusiasm or disappointment. Numbness equaled no expression or personal acknowledgement. Numbness equaled no emotional pain which, I later discovered, was my sub-conscious goal.

The first step towards my healing began when I learned how to be mad. Yes, I had the opposite problem from individuals who attend anger management sessions. I suffered from the inability to defend myself on any level. When I acquired the ability to recognize when I was not at fault; when I discovered that I did not deserve abuse; and (most important) when I realized that I had value; it was then that I began to feel.

Feeling, at first, was painful. Excavating issues buried deep within my soul was difficult. Dynamite-like dreams dug up the nightmares of my past, which caused explosions in my heart that hurt beyond belief. My reward however, for enduring countless sleepless nights, was to begin feeling forgiveness.

My wounds hurt less when I discovered that pardoning the person did not mean I was condoning their actions taken against me. In fact, it was not even necessary for me to reconcile with the persons who treated me poorly. If that were true, then my abusers would hold a power over me indefinitely. By surrendering my obsession to remain resentful, I released the harmful emotions that hindered my healing. Perhaps I am a slow learner, but it took me nearly thirty years to abandon my childhood pain. Surviving the slow journey resulted in true divine restoration and resurrection of my soul.

Emerging from my psyche with fervor was a much higher self-esteem and confidence, hope and optimism about my future, and an inner indescribable happiness. With this new wisdom, the most beautiful light in my life turned on — I recognized that my parents were/are only human.

As Pope wrote so perfectly, “To err is human…”

My mother died a slow agonizing death in 1987, at the age of 55, from her addictions. In our grief and disgust, my brother, sister, and I became estranged from our father. Astonishingly, my father is still alive and dealing daily with substances that should have, by human standards, ended his life well before now.

In the years that followed mom’s passing, I confronted my own insecurities. Today, I am proud to report that I won the battle. Although it is still extremely difficult for me to stick up for myself, I at least realize that I am not always at fault. I also believe that everything in my life happens for a reason. Writing this column helps me keep everything in perspective, while sharing my personal journey may help others who face similar situations.

By the way, miracles do happen! My siblings and I reunited with our father. I have forgiven my father for his human faults; I feel great love for his being. I know he feels the same about me. Embracing, loving, feeling and forgiving are truly gifts from God.
“…to forgive, divine.”

Happy Father’s Day, Dad!

Donna Bonnell is a writer in Newberry.
She may be contacted at Donna@towerpublications.

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