June 8th is my father's birthday. I had debated whether I would call him or not to wish him a happy birthday...not because I was angry at him for all of the times that he failed my mother, brothers and me in the past. After all, I had forgiven him a long time ago. I debated calling him because I knew that he would never call me when my birthday rolled around even though he knows how much his acknowledgement would mean to me. I mean, I am his first born son. My younger brothers don't know him as a father. My mother had decided to leave him when they were too young to remember what was going on in our household at the time.
But I do. I remember the good times and the not so good times. I remember his laugh, and his love of music. I remember one Christmas morning, waking up to the stereo blasting and many presents under a tree that seemed to be twenty-feet tall. And the most precious memory of all was having him sit me on his knee to help me shoot a toy gun that he had purchased for me as a gift. I remember it even though he doesn't; so I cling to that memory much like a sinking ship survivor clings to a life raft.
Some of you reading this may wonder what any of this has to do with writing or becoming successful at doing the very thing that you love. Well, forgiveness is a huge gift, but most of us don't realize that it's a gift that we give ourselves.
It's not for the other person. It's for you. It clears the path for you to live at peace with yourself. It frees the mind to dream big dreams, and we all know that when we dream big dreams, the next probable step is to start walking in it. We can claim in all good conscious what is rightfully ours. We are free to plan our business without the clutter of anger, bitterness or resentment clouding our thought process.
I forgave my father years ago after being estranged from him for over ten. It may have been longer. Who has the time or the mental energy to count because in the end, it doesn't matter.
I can now tell him what I'm doing with my life. I can tell him that I've written a book and started my own publishing company. I can tell him what my plans are. All of these things, I can do without making him feel bad about the choices or mistakes that he's made. I know that no one's perfect. We hurt each other; sometimes with intent and sometimes without.
But when I forgave him, it opened the door to something more productive. It opened the door to the good memories that I still hold in my heart for him. And at the end of the day, I'd much rather have that then any seed of bitterness.
Now can I get an "Amen"?
J.L. Whitehead
