Two stories of forgiveness

I started writing something else, but veered off the path, and I can only believe that someone somewhere needs to read this, so here you go . . .

My Dear Ol Dad passed away about a year and a half ago now.
He used to live in my state. My Sis and I were born and raised here, and after gradutating from college, my sister moved to MN. My parents devorced, and Dad was on his own for about 10 years, staying here for about 8 of them, and then moving to TX. When it became appearent that Dad wasn't taking care of himself very well, my Sis went and got him, and made arrangements for his health and living needs. God Bless her for doing that. He passed away just as his freedom was to taken away. He was about to be confined to a wheelchair, with oxygen tank, and I am positive his last 8 or so years were much better because of her.
It happened that I hadn't seen my dad since he moved to TX, and had never seen my Sis in MN either. I always thought I would go and see them both one day, but we never had the time or money.
One day out of the blue I told my hubby that I needed to go see him. After pricing airline tickets, I decided to drive, and told hubby to come with me. I called Sis and told her we were comming. She was suprised, but made arrangements to leave her camp outing and come home to meet us.
Just like a bad country song, he passed away an hour before we arrived.
Rather than dwell on that pain, I'd like you'll to know that several years back, while on the phone, my Dad told me he was always sorry he didn't stick up for me more. I always thought we both knew - that he did as much as he dared. If he did more, it would cost me. [My Mom was abusive - there, I said it! but this isn't about that] I told him that if he ever thought for one second that he failed me in some way, he should know that I forgive him. I further made it clear "For anything you think you might have done, or might have failed to do, or any tiny detail that might enter your head on a sleepless night, just know that I love you, and I know you did your best, and incase that isn't good enough, I forgive you. I'm ok now. I harbor no resentment of any kind, toward you or Mom, and God is good!"
So even though, I never did get to see him, I thought back to that conversation, and felt some relief.
How many people don't get to say those things to people that need to hear it?
So readers, please do yourself a favor. Call that family member, [don't mention the offense], and at least tell them that you love them.

For the curious, I did forgive my Mom too. It didn't work out so well . . the first time. I was 23, maybe, newly devorced from an abusive man, and had a fairy tale belief that when I told her I forgave her, she would aplogise, and we'd hug and be like a normal Mother & Daughter ever after. She didn't. The first words out of her mouth were "Who did you tell?" and all I could think about was "I am trying to heal, and you are making this about you now" I think I stammered something like "no one, I just wanted to . ." and then she broke in with "You were a crazy maker! You drove me crazy. You have no idea what it was like!" and I left.

For years, my Mom and Sis would ignore me except for Thanksgiving, when I would get a non-optional invite to Mom's and at Christmas time, when they wanted to know what I wanted. I never knew what to say. All I could think of was if they knew me, they wouldn't have to ask.
The calls were always short, and if I tried to talk about my life or ask about theirs for the past year, they were in a hurry and had to go. One year, my Mother actually moved to FL just before Thanksgiving without even telling me. I only found out, a few days before, when I called her.
Year after year they would send me stuff, rarely anything I liked or could use, and it always made me feel inadequite, I guess for not appriciating it more. In retrospect, I am not sure how I would feel if they actually sent me anything that I did like.
One night while driving, I was out of my usual radio range and scanned the dial. I came upon a contemperary Christian station playing a song that really spoke to me.
I had gotten married again, and was a bit embarrased to tell my family, plus didn't want to hear all possible negative comments. So I hadn't invited them.
That song made me realise that I hadn't really forgiven my Mother.
I pulled over and declared to the Lord that I forgave her. I told Him that "I am letting go of the debt that she owes me, and giving it to you, Lord. She owes me nothing, and I am counting on You forgiving her too"
Now I could tell you something magical happend that day, but I just don't know. I felt better, but it pretty much seemed like an ordinary day to me.
I will say that when Christmas rolled around that year, and that call came in, I was ready to tell her to please not send me any more things. That I love her, but I just don't want to ride this ride anymore. but something happened. She asked me how I had been. I answered and asker her how she'd been. We laughed and told stories for 45 mintues - a lifetime record for us at that point.
I was crying when I got off the phone. I had finally gotten what I wanted for Christmas!

There you have it. Two stories of forgiveness. Both with happy endings, but very different beginnings.
I want you to know, because I didn't at first, that you do not have to tell the person you are forgiving. If they are still in a bad place that you don't want to revisit, you can forgive them right where you are. Just let go.
but if they ever hint that the are seeking your forgiveness, give it to them and more.

I really think that when someone causes us pain, we think they owe us something. We hang on to that pain like an IOU, refusing to tear it up until they apoligise. After awhile those IOU's add up, it's a great weight to carry around, never mind the fact that probably 95% of of the folks whose IOU's you're carrying, don't even know they have an IOU in your bag. The more we feel we're hurt, the more importance we place on it, and the heavier that IOU is. The trouble, if that isn't enough, with IOU's is that they grow. They seem to feed on pain and selfishness. and Yes, I do think it's selfish not to forgive. If no one else tells you that, it's because either they haven't thought about it, or want to keep taking your money while you pour out your "poor me's" on their couch for $150 an hour.
The pain, we can't help feeling for a minute, but the selfishess . . . you take away that, and all the power goes out of the offense, taking with it the pain. Yes, I am saying "Get over yourself" The only one making you carry that burden is you.

Fogiveness is freedom. By forgiving someone, you are freeing yourself of the pain that you were never meant to carry around in the first place.

This reminds of that game Hot Potato.
Although I am young enough to remember it was actually a plastic one, the premise is the same: The one holding it at the end, loses.
What if pain was an actual hot potato, and you have it in your hands because someone tossed it to you and you caught it. It's burning your hands, so you have to get rid of it. Now, you can toss it to someone else, knowing it will hurt them or you can drop it. Either way, once it is out of your hands, it will still hurt for some time. You may even need some salve to help it heal.
Well, I am here to tell you, the pain will be less if you drop that potato instead of handing it to someone else. and the quicker you drop it, the less pain you will feel.
Learn to drop the potato!
You have much better things to do!