I used to be super grudgy. I learned that from my family. I would hold a grudge against someone and wouldn't care if I ever saw them or talked to them again. As I got older I have mellowed out a lot and don't seem to care about the things that used to stress me out. No more road rage for me! (Although living here I could get shot for getting pissed at other drivers. I already got "fake shot" a few months ago. A car pulled out in front of me and I laid on the horn for a minute solid...one of my old tricks that usually embarrasses the driver. Well, this person gets over in the other lane and her kid in the back leans over and makes her fingers into a gun and pulls the trigger. Needless to say people can pull out in front of me and drive slow in front of me all they want, there will be no more horn blowin')
Anywho, I don't stress out about being late to something or if something I make isn't perfect. Hey, I planned Cole's 5th birthday a few days in advance!
Well, here is the biggie. As you know, when I was 5 my mom died. My Dad's mom came to live with us. She was not the typical gram...she used to beat me, tell me I was a fat pig and that it was my fault my mom died, because I was so bad.
I remember after she would hit me (with hands, wooden spoons or anything she could get her hands on...one time she grabbed a shoe and whipped it at me and ended up braking the kitchen light fixture) I would run upstairs, grab the phone (to call the police) and wait for a bruise to appear. I never bruised, so I never called.
I was hurt by all her mental abuse. I was a chubby little girl, but her calling me names never stopped me from stuffing my face. Even though she would say to me that terrible thing about my mom, I never really believed it. I always thought it was my sister's fault. My mom had a heart condition and the pregnancy and birth was real hard on her and put a lot of stress on her heart. Even still, I always had the sting of those words.
My Gram has cancer among other things. She would be real sick, then make a comeback. For a long time now I knew I would have to decide if I was going to forgive her. I knew I should b/c that's what I am supposed to do, but I didn't want to say it if I didn't mean it.
Living in the South has opened my eyes to lots of things...religiously speaking. Lots of women go to bible studies and attend church more than once a week and they also talk about being Godly. I have always believe in God and wanted to be a good person. I want to abide by God's rules and go to heaven. (When I was little my idea of heaven was sitting on a cloud with my mom eating M&Ms!)
A friend gave me a bible last year and every now and then I read it...and it seems like it is always for a purpose that is revealed soon after.
When I talked to my dad (King of Grudginess) a few weeks ago he said my gram was not doing good at all. The doctor said one to two weeks. She is confined to a bed and only gets up to use the bathroom. I knew I had little time to decide what to do.
I would be OK with forgiving her in my heart and never telling her. She never said sorry about anything in my childhood. Does she even remember now?
I have felt the need to call and forgive her a few times and never did. I guess I though if I did, she might die soon after. She's 95, so it's not like she'd be leaving us prematurely.
This morning I just got a feeling that I should do it. I took a quick look at my life and thought, her words and actions don't affect me anymore. I am a confident adult who is not making the same mistakes with her child. I am OK.
Before I made the call I broke down and cried. My Gram is dying, I am afraid to make this call, I am nervous about taking this huge step.
After I regained my composure, I dialed. I spoke with my Aunt first to see how she and my Gram were doing. I told her I knew I didn't have much time left and there was something I had to tell her before she goes. My Aunt said my Gram probably wouldn't be able to hear me, but I said that was OK, I just need to say it to her.
I know she couldn't hear me, but I told her I loved her and I forgave her. I said it twice throughout the conversation.
I'm not sure if I feel much different now that I said it out loud. Maybe in time I will. Or maybe I have been OK with it for some time now and really forgave her a long time ago.
I am proud of myself for taking this step. Who knew that I would still be growing up at age 37?!