Today is my brother’s birthday. I haven’t talked to my brother in so many years I’ve lost count. I sent him a letter years ago telling him I forgave him for raping me. I wrote that I understood coming from a household of incest, shit happens. I never heard back from him.
I believe conscious people say they’re sorry.
I’ve been through a lot in my life but that does not absolve me of my own accountability. I have two beautiful daughters and, for sure, we’ve had our struggles. We also have a love that will last through eternity.
I believe that is true only because I learned to say I’m sorry.
I try to find full authenticity around their pain for the generational sludge they grew up in as a result of the choices I made as an adult and the choices I did not make as a child. They didn’t choose the father I picked for them. Sure, I forgive myself for showing up with such a broken vessel that my navigational instincts around people were broken, but that does not take away their right to a mother who owns it. We are breaking this dysfunctional cycle but it takes each one of us standing in full accountability to each other.
On my father’s death bed he said he was sorry for the murder. That’s all. I will strive for the rest of my life to be stronger than that. To own how my pain hurt the people around me.
With agonizing shame, I had to learn to listen to the voices of my own children. Their stories triggered me into great despair but I learned how to stay. To keep my feet grounded on the full road of recovery. Next to them. Listening. Intent to make what I can right.
I need to ask your forgiveness this morning. Not to beat a dead horse but for deeper understanding and accomplishing stronger bonds.
Forgive me for trying to force that bond with your father. Instead of becoming stronger and seeing that I had made a mistake – I tried to rectify that by making him a better man than he was. You saw the truth – both of you did. I tried to change that. That was wrong.
Believe in your strength to see the truth. I took some of that.
Forgive me.
Text to My Daughters
This is a picture of my children taken in the early 90s. I can once again look at this picture without feeling shackled to their burdens. Now I look at the future and smile.
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