Letting the past go

Well, I phoned my Father, and I forgave him the moment I heard his voice.

I was halfway there by the time I had made the decision to call him. I thought about what it would be like to die with regret, knowing that your family didn't even care enough to say goodbye to you, and I thought that would be a terrible way for anyone to die. If that was how my Father was feeling,  then I wasn't going to be the one responsible for him having to take it to his grave. Death is so final, ya know? So I phoned.

I expected him to say something sarcastic and mean to me when he answered the phone, but he didn't; he even thanked me, twice, something that I don't ever remember him doing before, and the second time sounded sincere enough for me to believe that he was thanking me for forgiving him.   Suddenly the power had shifted; he no longer held it over me. The hate I had been carrying around for years just vanished. It just disappeared, just like that. Poof!

It's true you know what they say about feeling lighter when you let the past go and you forgive someone. It really is.  -  I don't condone what he did to his family, to me and my Mom especially, but he's not the same man he use to be. He's old and he's dying,  and he's grateful for what he receives - I just got off the phone with him now, and he thanked me again. It blows me away every time I hear it.

Today he asked me if I was home yet.  I thought at first that he was a little confused, so I explained that I was home, here in Victoria.  He then told me that 'they', I think he meant my brother and his wife, had told him that I was coming to visit, so the home he was talking about was there in Nova Scotia, in Halifax, with him. When I told him I didn't know if I could come, he said "Oh well", but I could hear the disappointment in his voice plain as day...