Forgiveness is so hard to give

I met you when I was about the age in that picture above. My dad said he wanted me to meet someone and I was the first of his three children to meet you. We met at McDonalds, but you had to leave early because one of your children was sick. You said to me it was a pleasure to meet me. I smiled and said same here mam.

You nursed me back to health after my moms boyfriend beat me half to death. You treated my wounds, held my hand and rocked me to sleep the first week. I never felt so loved as I did then.

After my dad and I left you he asked me what I thought, I said based on what I could see you were nice and I liked you. He laughed. When my dad dropped me off at the house, I went upstairs sullen, withdrawn and didn’t eat. I wasn’t ready to lose my dad again, nor to share him with someone else. See he was just starting to come around again to see us.

I forgave you when you didn’t invite us( my siblings and I), to your wedding, I was young so what would I know about weddings any way? But your children were there, why weren’t we? We were his children too.

After I was caught in bed with that bombshell of a boy. He was eleven, I was fourteen, you had me removed from the house and put into a camping trailer two hundred yards from the house. I still haven’t forgiven you for that one.

You would tell us that for three weeks during the summer you wouldn’t see us because of a planned family vacation. Well we were his children. Were we not part of the family as well? But again I forgave you.

When I graduated from basic training at Ft. Benning, GA neither one of you showed up for my graduation. My dad said it wasn’t him that didn’t want to go. But you went to Ireland and spent six months with your son who was attached to the British Navy. I forgave you, barely.

I took a job in the airline industry. That was a disaster. I couldn’t put you and my mother on the benefits so I figure my second year you would go on my benefits. You did. I sent you and my dad on a honeymoon to the Bahamas and you went to Hawaii from Roanoke, VA. It cost me for both of you one half of my check. I said nothing to you. I asked for nothing in return, except for maybe some attention and love.

When I asked if my kids could come out and spend time with you for a couple of weeks in the summer and you refused, denying my father the opportunity at a real relationship with his biological grandchildren. I was furious. But your grandchildren were there at every opportunity.

We would come into town to visit for vacation. You would put out my children's pictures, then take them down when we left to go home. We forgave you, because you did it to all three of his children.

You ran off to Florida with a black man. Then you brought him home and introduced him to my father. I never forgave for that. He did, I didn’t. You never flew on my flight benefits again. He did, but not you.

When you were married for thirty years, you asked for a divorce. I was shocked. He moved you out of the house, but in the process he fell and broke his back. You left him with no food and no way to go to the bathroom and no way to contact anyone. Had it not been for his brother coming to check on him, my dad may have died. Perhaps that’s what you wanted. I never forgave you for that.

After you and my father got back together, I was pissed. So was the whole family, but for his sake I pretended to be happy. I also pretended to forgive you but didn’t.

I asked you and him to join me on a European tour, all expense paid. How many parents wouldn’t love their son footing the bill? You said no. Really? I was hurt and dejected on that one. I never forgave you for that because I knew it was you and not him.

When I invited you out for game three of the 2007 World Series and you said no. Again, I was hurt, but I didn’t forgive that one. I went alone.

When you wouldn’t come out and go to see the Rockies play because you refused, instead going to your sons house. That was another slap in the face. I enjoyed my time with my dad, but I wanted time with you as well.

When my dad went in for knee surgery I talked to him. After he woke up I talked to him. Two days later, I sent a text message to my father telling him his first biological great-grandson had been born. You responded with my father was in a coma. But congratulations on my grandson. I asked did I need to come up to be with my dad. You said NO. I didn’t forget that conversation.

Fifteen days later I get a phone call from your oldest daughter, my step-sister. She told me that my father had passed away. But what she told me next was even more unforgiveable. She said and I quote “we as a family made a decision to remove your father from life support.” Seriously? Where were his three children in this decision? I was living and working in Denver, but would have been given the time off for this. Then she went on to “ you are more than welcome to come to the funeral if you want, well he was your father so yes you have a right to be there.” But you refused to call and tell my uncle, his brother had passed away. I did that. You call yourself a Christian?

On the day of the funeral we sat with you, but not my uncle. He wasn’t allowed. I wasn’t allowed to say anything about my father. You knew he wanted to be buried, instead you had him cremated. You didn’t have a military funeral for him either. I still haven’t forgiven you for that.

As we all sat and had lunch of fried chicken, ham and the works, I heard the ladies from the church say we need enough food over to their house for twenty-five people. We weren’t invited. After you left, you told me my granddaughters were very beautiful girls. I said thank you. My dad said I could have his nice bible, you gave me one that was falling apart. But the meanest thing you did was to give my siblings and I boxes. In those boxes were every picture we sent to you of the children and grand children. I haven’t heard from you since my dad’s funeral. I will never forgive you for this treatment, because you not only hurt me. You hurt my fathers biological grandchildren and great grandchildren as well. How can you be so unfeeling as a human being? Especially being a nurse.