While it may seem unorthodox to heal past trauma by listening rather than speaking about our problems, it’s not something to be discounted.
We’re so quick to give to others. Yet, almost feel guilty about giving to ourselves. Think about birthdays, holidays, or special occasions. I bet that you take the time to buy a card for your parents, siblings, best friend, significant other, etc. and then proceed to take the time to write thoughtful words. You somehow manage to make that time to be sentimental with others but probably don’t take that time for the one person who truly deserves your loving words; you.
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When I was four years old, my mom started dating again after having separated from my biological father about a year earlier. One day she approached my sister and myself to let us know she had met someone special and he was Superman. Being only four, I imagined a man in the full ensemble flying through a window to meet us. Needless to say, that never happened.
However, he quickly became the man that I called Daddy. The person that influenced me to be the avid reader I am, the best friend that I would cheer along with while watching the Giants and the Yankees, the gentle soul that would comfort me during heart breaks, the mentor who taught me to have a tenacious work ethic, the guru who encouraged me to spread my wings to fly through life following my heart’s desires. He was my very own superhero, my Superman.
As the cycles of life would have it, all good things must come to an end. We eventually went our separate ways –the both of us having been at fault for our shortsightedness, ego, and pride. During our intermission, not a day passed without him entering my mind. Emotions coursed through me from anger to bittersweet tears wondering why and how this happened. With each passing day, the anger grew stronger until there was nothing left but compassion.
When I had matured and evolved enough to allow my vulnerability to triumph over resentment, I made up my mind that I would call him to mend the fences once and for all. But it had to be special. It had to be perfect. I was going to reach out on his birthday. Being eager and anxious for the big day to arrive, I started to mentally prepare for the ice breaker. Only that opportunity never came knocking. In a sick twist of fate, the day before his birthday, I received a phone call he had passed.
As painful as it is for me to admit that I was estranged from my father for two years before his demise, it’s a script in my story that can never be rewritten. I wish it could but the truth is once time is lost, it can never be regained. What was most heartbreaking for me was that I had been planning on reconciling our differences but postponed it saying to myself that I would wait until his birthday.
For about a couple of months leading to the day I deemed perfect, I had been receiving fleeting thoughts to call him but insisted that I wait so as to make it special. In retrospect, it was my intuition and the universe’s way of sending me messages to forgive and forget because time is not guaranteed. If only I had heeded my own advice, the moment that my entire world was flipped upside down wouldn’t have left me harboring guilt.
This is a message for those who are waiting for life to happen and those who have been conquered by their hatred towards others. Don’t wait-seize your own life, grab hold of what your heart yearns for. Most of all, find it in your heart to forgive those who have inflicted pain on you. The fact of the matter is we all need love. Even when we hate to love.