“Forgive but do not forget, or you will be hurt again. Forgiving changes the perspectives. Forgetting loses the lesson.” ~ Paulo Coelho
“Forgive and Forget.” We hear it all the time. Google the phrase and you’ll get nearly 700,000 results. They even sing about it, like one of my granddaughter’s favorite TV friends, Doc McStuffins.
Most of us have been wronged or harmed by someone at sometime in our lives. If it’s something seemingly trivial, like hurt feelings in elementary school when you were the last one chosen for a team or when someone makes fun of the way you dress, it doesn’t take much effort to forgive those minor offenses. It may be much harder to forget how they made you feel.
I still remember the humiliation in second grade when I was the only girl who didn’t get a valentine with a lollipop from Ronnie Peters. Don’t ask me the names of the other kids in my class, because I don’t remember them. A few years later, someone wrote “Teacher is a skunk” on the blackboard, and we all had to stay inside during recess until someone confessed. Everyone thought it was me, except, of course, the real perpetrator. I never found out who that was, but my pain and helplessness are still clear in my mind.
Don’t get me wrong; I forgave Ronnie and even laughed about it when I saw him at our 30th class reunion. I think he thought I was suffering from early-onset Alzheimer’s, because he had no idea what I was talking about. It took me a bit longer to laugh about the skunk thing, but I’ve sometimes thought about what I’d do if I ever found out who did it. Considering our age range, there’s a fair chance he (or she) has already passed on and has confessed to Saint Peter.
These slights seem silly, but there have been many times in my life that I’ve been wronged in a more serious way. Some I may have forgotten. but there are a few that stick in my mind because they had significantly negatives effects on me or someone I cared about.
My ex had been seeing our kids regularly after our divorce, taking them every other weekend and a few weeks in the summer. After he remarried, however, it was a different story. The week-long vacation at the lake they had planned the summer before was cut short, and he unceremoniously dumped his three children at my parents’ house. My girls never saw their father again, although my oldest daughter tried to keep in contact by writing letters and sending birthday and Father’s Day cards. After she sent him a high school graduation announcement, I received a letter from his attorney stating that my ex-husband had no desire to have any relationship with his children, and I was ordered to prevent our daughters from communicating with their father.
I was outraged and appalled he could be so cruel. The two younger girls were not old enough to fully understand, but the eldest was crushed, although she never talked about it. It took me more than a few years to forgive my ex, but when I held my grandchildren in my arms, I realized this was something he would never do. He wouldn’t see the physical characteristics they shared with him or watch them grow up. He had already missed walking one daughter down the aisle, and that honor was undertaken by my middle daughter’s step-father at her wedding 20 years ago.
At that point, I was no longer angry with my ex-husband. Instead I felt sorry for him. He had always been a kind but weak man, and I discovered that his wife had given him a choice — her or his children. He suffered from uncontrolled diabetes, had experienced two severe heart attacks, and was on total disability. It made me incredibly sad when my daughters discovered in a web search that he had died not long after his third, and last, grandson was born. I’ve forgiven my ex-husband, even though I know his rejection has had a negative effect on my daughters.
Forgiveness has not been exceptionally difficult for me, perhaps because any resentment or bitterness I’ve held on to has adversely affected me both mentally and physically. I’ve learned that if I dwell on how I’ve been wronged, negative feelings begin to overshadow the positive aspects my life. Perhaps this is why I never hold a grudge.
The sister of a friend of mine hadn’t spoken to her in over a quarter of a century because of something she had done, which my friend didn’t even remember doing. The grudge this woman had held for so long had an adverse impact on her even more than it did the person she perceived to have wronged her. The entire extended family was affected because the sister wouldn’t allow her husband or children to attend any family function if my friend was there. She was not even present at her mother’s bedside when she took her last breath.
I recently read an article about Ricky Jackson, who was awarded over $1 million in compensation for a wrongful conviction. He was only 18 when he was sentenced to death for a brutal murder in 1975. The primary witness was a 12-year-old boy who claimed to had seen Jackson attack the victim. Jackson spent 40 years in prison before he was exonerated, primarily because that witness recanted his testimony almost four decades later.
Can you imagine how difficult it would be to forgive someone who was responsible for robbing you of the best years of your life? More importantly, could you ever be able to forget it? I marvel at the depth of this man’s forgiveness.
“I’m tired of being chained to the past,” Jackson said, which may indicate that he is attempting to put all of it behind him. However, I don’t think this type of grievous injustice could, or even should, be forgotten.
I think Desmond Tutu may have said it best: “Forgiving is not forgetting; it’s actually remembering — remembering and not using your right to hit back. It’s a second chance for a new beginning. And the remembering part is particularly important. Especially if you don’t want to repeat what happened.”
NOTE: This is the year I celebrate (?) seven decades residing on this planet. My journey so far has taught me many life lessons, so I decided to share some of them with you. I’ll be posting one each day from Thanksgiving to Christmas.
Yesterday: Embrace Your Inner Child
Tomorrow: Enjoy Your Own Company
