Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Forgiving and Accidents of Birth

Addendum: 20 June 07 ~ This morning has been a rough one here.. with me coming to the distinct knowledge that my spirit has been screaming at me, trying to get my attention through a variety of means. Those spirit swats included some misinterpretations, me jumping to conclusions about a perceived slight, a Cassandra call to someone I care about very much, and an assortment of things with different people that finally, a few minutes ago, knocked me to my knees. One of the conclusions I've reached.. and am certain about.. is that this is the last post I will make on this topic. It's too private and too personal. In many ways, simply too painful. On some level, I've recognized that this exceeds my blogging boundaries which is causing me to feel too exposed, too raw, hence the hypersensitivity. (The Cassandra call stands.. you know who you are. No correlation or connection to this comment.) But I'm done with this topic, this turning it over and publicly fondling it, trying to excise some value from it for others. In a very firm and solid way, I know that. This topic will not be raised on this site again. Yeah. Maybe that is what forgiveness really is.. that quiet knowledge that something needs to be put firmly behind us, knowledge that from here on, we move forward with as much integrity and honor as we can muster up.. even when that means the risks are higher than remaining stuck.

One more thing: I would appreciate very much if people coming by would say something. Somehow, the idea of writing these things and having them read without comment gives me the creeps. I'm not asking for a dissertation.. but just an acknowledgment would feel very good!

I know it would be easier to just delete this post and forget about it.. but I did make a commitment to not do that.

This post is about forgiving the past... and how we come to that.

It's a real challenge for me to not slip into the global. That's how I've always handled things. Stick to cultures and politics, big issues. That way, I don't have to deal with my own shit.

By now anyone who has been reading here for very long knows where I grew up. By now, most everyone knows enough about my family to know that when I was on the Other Side choosing them, I didn't choose well.

As for where I grew up, that was an issue of shame for a long time. I used to lie about it. All the time.

"Where did you grow up?"

"Los Angeles."

"Where in Los Angeles?"

"Los Angeles."

Most people probably thought I was ashamed... and I was.

Not because of the wealth. I was ashamed because it was so hard to allow anyone a glimpse into my life. They would see that I was little more than a well-dressed feral child. They would see all the ugliness that was hidden in the threshold. They would see all the open, festering wounds we carried. They bled and seeped through the fabric of our clothes. Still, we all lied about them. How does one explain about a family so fractured that we barely knew each other? How does one explain that while we were surrounded with all the things that were supposed to make us happy, we were all miserable? We were in a gilded ghetto.

How could I possibly explain that? To anyone? Who would understand it and who would care?

Yes. I was bitter. For a lot of years.

I wanted so badly to belong to a family that cared, that mattered to each other, that didn't wear the emotional equivalent of thick insulated hazmat suits to keep each other away, who would offer comfort when we were upset or share in our joys. It was so. goddam. lonely! Our address just made it somehow even more insulting and hurtful.

... Because no one believed me.

I had it all, after all. My complaining about anything made me a spoiled brat who didn't appreciate how much I had in the world. I might as well have been one of the Menendez Brothers.

So it left me very isolated and alone. We were forced to paint a smile on our faces every day and hide the pain. The first time I seriously considered suicide was at nine years old. I remember believing that the reason why I had no friends and was so alone was certainly because I was such a horrid person that I deserved no better.

When I think back on it now, I'm surprised that I'm no longer angry. Not angry.. but I don't trust. I don't trust very much at all. I don't relax. Not really. Not very often.

The gift that keeps on giving.

There are times when I struggle with how my forgiveness will ultimately manifest. Forgiveness doesn't necessarily mean that everything is okay now. We still carry our damage. I'm not there entirely. Not yet. This is a lifetime job.

Intellectually, I realize that my family would have been fractured if we'd lived anywhere. We were fractured because no one had the skills to make it otherwise. Every minor problem was magnified and was just cause for abandonment. I am as guilty of as much of it as they are. My first instinct when something goes wrong in a relationship is to bail. Outta here. Dust.

Intellectually, I understand that circumstances are rarely the cause of anything. Our reactions are the cause.

Intellectually, I understand that we are all flawed human beings who make mistakes. No one is perfect, least of all me, and the only way to survive this life experience is to be flexible and forgiving of everyone's flaws, including my own.

"Let he who is without sin...."

That is the first step for me. As for regretting what I didn't have, yeah, there's still a little bit of that. Every now and then. When I come face-to-face with the level of damage in my life, it could make me very, very angry. But I don't want to live in that anger. God knows, I don't want to end up like my father, laying in a cold den with a bullet in my head.

I don't choose that. Even when it's so hard I can barely put one foot in front of the other, I don't choose that. Not even when I want to shake my fist at the heavens and ask "WHY?", I don't choose that.

I choose instead to cull all I can out of this experience. I choose instead to overcome it, at least to a degree that will allow me to relax into my relationships, to trust they'll be here tomorrow.. and the next day.. and to trust that others truly mean me no harm.

We are all just flawed. That's all.

And maybe that is forgiveness. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.




Anonymous said...

Chani, I'm so glad you took this challenge head on, so to speak. I love your bravery and I'd much rather learn about you, than about the global issues (though I always learn something here).

I can see us as Thelma and Louise. Except, let's have a better ending.

flutter said...

as always, Chani brave and beautiful

slouching mom said...

This moved me so, Chani. Just broke my heart. I wish I could have helped that little girl who was sad enough at nine to think about suicide. Or at least mothered her through her pain.

"gilded ghetto" -- Such a beautiful, painful, perfect phrase.

This post is going to stay with me for some time.

crazymumma said...

and a rose is a rose is a rose.

we come from what we come from, but it does not hold us back from what we can


Lucia said...

Yes, we are all flawed, and most often from something or someone beyond our control when we were children.

heartinsanfrancisco said...

The phrase "well-dressed feral child" really stunned me. You are so very talented at conveying the deepest truths, both personal and universal, with words.

You know that my upbringing in many ways paralleled yours. I am also still working through the damage and growing stronger.

My first instinct is also to bail when there is discord in relationships. Flip has called me on this many times, and I have grown to trust more than I ever did before.

A person who knew my entire family remarked a few years ago that I was born into the wrong family. I was practically ecstatic that she recognized that. I felt validated.

I have concluded that it was necessary for me to learn certain lessons, and the family I chose was the right petri dish for that to occur. I think that I may be more compassionate than I would have been had I been raised more lovingly. And so are you.

So I think it IS possible to love and forgive the souls of those whose personalities and actions we don't like. At least, that's the theory I'm operating under now. It's uncharted territory, but it hasn't killed me yet.

jen said...

very, very brave post, friend.

there is something so essential about getting what you need when you are young. being safe. feeling loved. i've worked with so many kids over the years who once had the trappings but the shell was hollow - your words reminded me so much of them - and these kids were hurting so badly. so badly....

and it's heartbreaking, because it's as if something essential, like a vitamin, was denied, and from that denial, something was unable to grow.

and then we grow up and wonder why. your post makes me want to be a better mother, chani. it may not fix what happened, but i hope it means something. we can do better than we were given.

much love to you.

Pam said...

There can be just as much shit in a guilded cage as there is anywhere else...I, too, was born to the wrong family and pay to this day. I have managed forgivness and it has helped, but there is one member who's presence in my life would be a grave danger.

We need to rise above our misfortunes and I have managed, but it is always a work in progress. I am, however, a much better person than where I came from, as are you.

Christine said...

Oh, Chani. You are such a strong and yet loving person. To have survived a childhood void of the kind of love and caring a little person needs is amazing. Yes, there are scars, but you are here now with us, and we love that you are here.

Anonymous said...

I try not to look back. If I'm always looking forward, then forgiveness isn't an issue. It all just fades farther away with each step.

Dealing with stuff has never been my strongpoint. I just keep truckin'…

Julie Pippert said...

When someone has what you say you wish you had, or need, or is the thing that you believe woudl cure all ills...sympathy is often hardpressed to come.

The flaw with that, of course, is that the grass only looks greener on the other side.

Live and learn this.

You are very courageous to put this up and explore the issue. It's much easier to sweep it all under a rug, but, of course, it's all still there, the rug is simply lumpy.

Emotional neglect of a child is horrible, and yet, in some way, it's mainly an empathic failure that we are all guilty of to some degree.

I'm so sorry you had the experience you did, can understand how where you lived only hurt more for you, and yet...here you are as you are, one of the most reflective and thoughtful people.

Great response to the topic.

KC said...

Wow. Your vulnerability and strength in this post is amazing. What I am truly amazed at is your ability to be differently, to adapt despite this upbringing. It must be very, very hard not being given the tools to do this at an early age. It's that neurobiology of mother child love I wrote about. You are remarkable for overcoming this, even if it is a lifetime process.

Ally said...

What an amazing post. This is my first time at your site, so I don't know yet all the history that you've referred to, but thank you for stepping out in this brave way and writing this from your heart.

Cecilieaux said...

You sure you're not my secret, long lost sister?

Seriously, I can see why you want to stop at this border.

Blogging need not be public, naked therapy. The big issues in which you say you clothe your inner angst need not be perceived as fakery: what we are inside helps define how we see the outside, interact with it, change it, improve it. So if you find yourself translating your inner pains, joys and insights into issues that affect others, that's good, too.

Deezee said...

I don't want to play "me, too" but I related to a lot of this post.

I suspect we grew up in the same zip code. My family, also tumultuous, left me cautious with trust and ready to run from relationships at the first (well, maybe not first...) sign of trouble. You so captured the characteristics of the "guilded ghetto." I've often thought about how no one wants to hear the woes of those born of any kind of privilege.

thailandchani said...

De, yes... definitely a better outcome! :)


Flutter, thanks. Somehow, it doesn't feel very brave or beautiful with some hours behind it.


SM, it's the hardest part to explain sometimes. No one, least of all me, wants to come across as another Gloria Vanderbilt.. the poor little rich girl.. but it is so necessary for people to understand that child abuse crosses all economic boundaries.


CM, you are 100% right.


Lucia, yes.. isn't it amazing how it can stay with us so long? We can try to let it go and often do a fair job of it.. but it lurks there in the background like a hidden script.


Susan, I've had the same experience. A good friend, some years back, told me that she recognized that I was just born to the wrong family, the wrong place and the wrong time. I did feel validated by that! Thank goodness for those souls who come along on occasion who do understand these things.

I'm not sure that my family was the right petri dish.. or perhaps they were but it is not clear to me yet. Since I do believe we choose our circumstances, that means I chose them.. but it doesn't mean I chose right.

Not sure yet. Honestly.


Jen, there are few things I can say with utmost confidence, that I know to be true but in this case, I can. You are a good mother.. and a good person. No one can take that from you.. and I so appreciate your wanting to make sure your daughter is safe.. and loved. When you have more children, you will do the same.

Her life will be so much better for it .. and so will yours.

A vitamin. Yes. That's exactly right. That is why some of the damage is permanent.. and there is no amount of will.. or chiding.. or demanding.. or pressure.. that will undo it. You can't unscramble scrambled eggs.. and those who say we can just "get over it" are doing more harm than good.

You know, I agree that being stuck is counterproductive and unhealthy.. but we don't "get over it".


Pam, thanks. My commitment to being a better person is always there. And hopefully, I will be an even better person as I grow older. I've got my share of work to do.. but I'm up for it. :)


Christine, thank you. Thank you for saying so. Some days that feels very real..


(next template)

Mary said...


We are all flawed. The sad part of that is that some people don't know it. That's where the trouble is. And - I've never known a completely functional family. We're all one big dysfunctional, happy family.

I'm sitting here at my desk eating a slice of birthday cake. There is nothing to celebrate. On the third day of my new diet, I bought a slice of birthday cake. I AM REALLY FLAWED.

I hope you keep your chin up.

thailandchani said...

Thomas, I think that's just as good an approach as any other. With some things, I do that, too. The question I ask myself is "will this matter in five years".


Julie, in some ways, it's almost more like the shrimp in the curtain rods, even more than a rug. After a while, it begins to stink and you can't find the source. That's why I am so much in favor of digging this stuff out by the roots and examining it, sometimes even to a point of excruciating pain.

Sunlight is always the best disinfectant.


KC, the neurobiology is the really fascinating part of all this. Like my mother, I was born without the "mommy gene". I can be very nurturing and kind in other areas but I wouldn't trust me to raise a child.. ever. Maybe that is where the neurobiology intersects with the psychological?


Ally, thank you... thank you for coming by and leaving such a kind comment.


Cecileaux, I believe you are correct. With this post today, I bordered on losing all dignity and it won't happen again. This was the last time.

You're also correct that the global attitudes.. or priorities.. are largely determined by these past experiences.


Deezee, "me, too" is good. It lets all of us know we're not alone. :)

Perhaps we were raised in the same zipcode. Was there a TV show named after yours? :)


Mary, cake is definitely not allowed on my diet, either. :) I'm exhausted today.. too much emotion.. too much residual cold. I think I'll celebrate with a nap instead. LOL




Hel said...

"we move forward with as much integrity and honor as we can muster up"

What a wonderful line.

And thank you for sharing this. As always it has given me much to reflect on.

You are a bright flame.

Anonymous said...

I think that blogging is a form of therapy, to express the inside outside ( i hope you understadn my poor English!)There are boundaries, yes, I din't see that you over pass them.

I once blogged about how nice it could be to have sex past 50 years old. Then, I felt a bit ashamed, but I got nice comments from my sons, and my nephews and nieces. I found fun that the young generation appreciated it!

heartinsanfrancisco said...

I may be mistaken, but as I understand it, we never choose wrong when we are in spirit, between lives, whatever you call it.

We have contracts with those who agree to play certain roles so that we may learn the lessons we have set out to learn each time.

I have come to believe that my most painful and difficult relationships were in some ways my greatest teachers, even though the learning process truly sucked.

Lawyer Mama said...

Chani - I love your take on this topic. It's personal, yes, but I like that. I like hearing about the internal you, flawed though you may be.

I also loved the phrases you used to describe your childhood - "gilded ghetto" and "well-dressed feral child." In those two phrases you told me so much.

meno said...

Hi Chani,
You know what i wonder? I wonder when the dividing line is between "she was just a child and it wasn't her choice" to "She needs to take responsibility for her past."

For my own self, that line moves. Most of the time i am on the take responsibility side, but every so often i move for a while to that other side. And on those days, it's the truth.

I am sometimes tempted to delete a post. I never have, but i have hurried to post something else to move the first post down, so i can out it in the back of my mind.

Emily said...

For those of us who grew up in households where the horrors were treated with mandatory silence, the mere fact that we get to choose whether or not to speak of it as adults is a glorious right. You have chosen exactly how much you choose to speak of it. Revel in that right.

BTW -- I feel the same way about comments. I know the story I am telling is painful for people to read, but I wish they would comment because otherwise I feel I am doing some sort of lame striptease.

thailandchani said...

G, I understand your English just fine. :) It's probably true that I didn't overstep the boundaries of blogging in general... but overstepped my own. I was able to tell by my immediate and very strong emotional reaction to knowing it was "out there". It began to bleed all over everything else in my life.

Sometimes sleeping dogs are best left to lie.


Susan, I know that intellectually, too. I know I chose.. and I chose for the right reasons. Maybe what I'm trying to say a bit more is that sometimes we bite off more than we can chew. (Too many doggie references here.. must be because mine is barking at nothing)... Sometimes I do feel like it's all too big for me, that these lessons are meant for someone with more intelligence, more wisdom, more strength. Being brutally honest, I don't think I've done a very good job with the lessons. I've retreated... cowards retreat.


LM, thank you. :) The phrases kind of came out of nowhere and I'm glad you said they were good. I wasn't so sure whether I should have included them in the beginning!


Meno, the line does move. No doubt about it. And it also depends on an individual's process time. Some process very slow and some can zip through stuff. I'm a new soul.. and it takes me a bit longer to do what some might do fairly easily. But then, in many ways, I don't even think my "real" life began until I went to Thailand.

We're always responsible for our behavior.. but as for letting things go, forgiving, etc., I think that's really individual.


Emily, you're really right. Many years ago, I was seeing a therapist and the singularly most difficult thing was to admit that I was abused as a child. Seriously. Hard. Because I couldn't even reconcile it myself with the material privilege. I was so afraid of saying it outloud.. like the world would shift on its axis. The freedom to talk about it or not is hard won... and I'll only give it up with a fight. But then there's discernment, knowing when it's time to stop splaying it out for the universe to see.

The comments: most of the time I don't mind lurkers.. but with something particularly personal, yeah, I feel the same way you do.

I'm not a performing monkey. I'm a real person behind this screen.




jen said...

Hi friend,

Am listening and I think I understand why you added the addendum. And good for you for knowing where you need to draw the line.

Am always here, listening.

thailandchani said...

Jen, yeah.. it pushed me over an edge I'd rather avoid. Thanks for always listening. I do appreciate that very much. :)




Suzy said...

Hey. Trite as it may sound, there is that bumper sticker that says "It's never too late to have a happy childhood." I agree that sunshine is a good disinfectant, so exposing parts of your life to the light of day is a healthy thing. In my teaching, I think I have come across more really dysfunctional families (not just your garden variety dysfunctional, but the ones who have elevated it to an art form) in the wealthier schools, so I understand what you are saying about gilded cages.

Take care and love yourself, in all your glory.

Hey, if you ever want to come out Wisconsin way, we have a lovely Thai pavilion in our local botanical garden ... I think of you now ever time I pass it.

thailandchani said...

Hel, thanks for such a nice comment! I try to be a bright flame.. and then I begin to clicker out. As long as it comes back, I will remain content.


Suzy, I think of my family as being one of those that elevate it to an art form. They are so dysfunctional, it is almost funny , as in no one could possibly believe this! It's like some corny novel!

I don't know why the wealthier communities see so much more of it. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that things are too easy. There is nothing to create unity. BH was a hotbed of dysfunction, on every level.

I'd love to see the Thai garden!

Thailand. (sigh) Who would have thought it possible to love any place the way I do that one, even with all its "dysfunction".. and it has so much! LOL




Mary-LUE said...

"We are all just flawed. That's all."

Amen to that! Sometimes it is just so much easier to keep that mirror of truth turned on others. Turning it onto myself is painful, especially when I see those flaws that in other people have been so hurtful to me.

I'm so sorry for the discomfort you've felt today and for the struggle your childhood has brought into your adult life. I hope tomorrow finds you back in your center.

Deezee said...

re: that TV show...that would be a yes. We must compare notes some time...

Carla said...

This is a very powerful post. When you were describing how you were ashamed of your past, what you had, but that the pain that was also present, it reminded me of one of William Blake's poems. I can't remember the title, but the lines "can make a heaven in hell's despair and hell in heaven's delight," have always stuck with me. It's hard to sometimes deal with the baggage in our lives. You are very brave to do so.

Snoskred said...

Uh-Oh. I think I'm guilty on this one. I came by and read the post in the morning, and honestly I didn't know what to say to it, Chani. Me, the great commenter who can always find something to say, I reached down inside myself and found.. blankness. So I figured I'd go off and do all the other things on my to do list, and mull it over, hoping something came to me. I mean, what do you say to that post? "Oh, sorry to hear you had a shitty childhood, here have a tissue?" I know some people (thankfully none who comment here) would say "Well, you had it better than a lot of people, I grew up in an orphanage and had to walk 20 miles through snow to school, so build a bridge and get over it!" The real truth is, I didn't have much fun as a kid either.

All my pithy thinkings did not seem *enough*. What you said resonated with me somewhere that I couldn't quite understand. And sometimes that's what happens when I read your posts. I need a little time to put my thoughts together before I can say something. Usually I just post a comment and say I'll be back when I've done that, but this time it really didn't seem right to me to do that. I wanted to say the right thing, the good thing, the thing that would make me feel that I'd said something worthy of such a post that you wrote.

Forgiveness is not for others. It is for yourself. It is what you do so you can put things behind you. Believe me it is not an easy thing to do, and often when you think you've done it you'll find things jump back out to show you no, you have not forgiven yet. Your job is not done, there is more work to do.

I have stuff from my childhood buried so deep I think I've forgotten it - and I think if I let it out it will drown me. That's where your post started to take me, and I had to think about whether I wanted to go down that road. As yet, the answer seems to be a resounding NO. I don't want to face what is back there. No, it's not really evil things like some kind of physical abuse - it's more like the mental abuses suffered by a kid who was not Stick Thin in school.

It was tough. It was harsh. I often felt like you did - completely alone. And I don't trust either - worst of all, I don't trust *women* because the people who teased me the worst, those who were completely merciless and never let up on me, they were always girls.

I do have issues trusting women. Which makes it all the more noteworthy that I now trust you, and many of your friends who come here. It also exposes me to the risk that ya'all might reject me, as many women have done in my life in the past. So yeah, I'm pretty terrified about that. I mean it.

So that's why I didn't comment. I was going to just try and hide how I felt, but I really struggled with coming up with a comment that did it without seeming uncaring. I guess what happened is actually a good thing for me, because I've been honest with you instead of pretending.

I went off and commented on about 30 blogging chick blogs, and I think I dropped back here a couple of times hoping I'd work out what to say, but I didn't.

I'm really proud of you for not deleting it. That shows just how far you've come. But you know what? There's some stuff that we just shouldn't blog about. I don't post about many things (some of which I'd love to share but it seems inappropriate) - there's a line there. I never want to write a post that has too much information about my health, because that's a fairly personal topic for me. I don't write about sex, or my cycles, or getting stomach flu, because I feel like people really don't need to know if I've been sick all night, and I often read blog posts that make me feel a little queasy because someone has posted somewhat graphic details of their visits to the bathroom. It's virtually like they took a photo of what's in the bowl, they describe it so.. descriptively. And I am a master of making pictures where there are none - probably if they'd posted a pic it would be much less worse than my mental photo created by reading the post. ;)

There's stuff in my past which I have not said much about, that I haven't really explored but I would like to explore, and then there's stuff back there which I'm not going near. That line is difficult to find but we do know when we've crossed it or are getting close to crossing it - once you hit post, your heart rate increases. You have thoughts about deleting it. You hope people will accept it well and comment.

I'm sorry for not recognising this was such a post for you. :( and I'm sorry for not commenting earlier. There's really no excuse, but I was speechless and trying to avoid going down roads of my own that scared me.

I may have to come back to this again because I'm still mulling it over, but I wanted to post this and let you know I'm sorry.

Gwen said...

Oh, Chani, I'm sorry you had such a rough go of it, that your family was so disappointing. While we have to move on from that, it's still really hard to do. And it seems like you're managing to make completely different choices from the ones that were made for you and with you, which is, in itself, a small miracle. Good for you.

thailandchani said...

Mary, thanks. :) I'm fine today. It was just rough-going for a while yesterday. Sometimes it's a good idea to work through things. There's always some wisdom to be gained from that.. but the way I did it yesterday wasn't the right way.


Deezee, yeah.. what can I say? Most of our lives were not like Brandon's and Brenda's after all! :)

It's been years (30+) since I've been in that city but can't imagine that much has changed.


Carla, the disparity seems to come in when perceptions are globalized. If anyone thinks that material privilege heals all wounds, that would be a great mistake. It eliminates some problems and creates others.


Snos, I had to giggle initially about your comment of people taking pictures of what's in the bowl. I can imagine there is a blogger somewhere who has done just that. :)

Still, I agree in the essential sense. There are some things we shouldn't blog about. That will be determined by individual sensibilities but I'd have to conclude on some level that some things even go beyond individual sensibility.

Posts like the one I did yesterday would naturally bring other people's "stuff" to the surface as well.. because I believe we try to find commonality where we can. We're always looking for someone who has had a similar experience because feeling alone is a plague in a marketcentric culture where community is not guaranteed to anyone.

These school experiences you mention.. you are definitely not alone in that. So many of us have gone through something similar that the experience is nearly universal.

That needs to be addressed at a policy level, too, because kids should have a right to go to school without being terrorized by each other because of differences. I am not a violent person but those who talk about how it is just the "natural order" and kids need to learn how to deal with it make me want to smack them!

I think you will find kindred spirits here.. since most people have gone through these things and have the nuts to talk about it.

None of us are alone, even when it most seems that way.


Gwen, thanks. You know, we all have to come through something. No reason why I should be immune. :)




QT said...

Ms. Chani - I am late to the game on this one, but I just wanted to tell you this was a brave post and I am SO glad you didn't erase it.

Reading this makes me realize how fortunate I was to grow up in a household full of love. My wish for you is that sometime you know it, what it feels like.

MsLittlePea said...

Just wanted you to know I somehow missed this post while I was catching up yesterday. While I didn't grow up in the same circumstances as you, I can relate to many of the things you have written about your family. We love each other very much but there has been so much hurt, betrayal, unfinished feelings,callous actions we are like robots around each other-smiling, laughing, but never really letting each other too close. My sisters and I have just begun trying to have a better relationship in the past year-as far as us and my parents, we're still working on it. It was a choice we had to make, not for each other but for ourselves. Forgiveness is the best gift a person can give to herself AND the hardest. I'm glad that you have been able to get through all that you have. I admire your strength.

kim said...

The one time I posted about my mother, almost no one commented. I felt like ooops I told too much and made people uncomfortable, so I understand the need for comments.

Like you I choose to overcome, but sometimes I wish that people knew how hard it was somedays to choose this.