Forgiveness is for tough broads

Forgive me if you will, and I do hope you will, but forgiveness is a tough thing to do.  Believe me – I know firsthand.

In 2004, after 16 years of marriage (many of them in an abusive relationship), I finally called 911. I was blindsided, however, when my husband met police at my door and convinced them that I did not fit the profile of an abused spouse, despite my call for help.  Believe it or not, I was arrested and spent a few hours at my local police station.  In that instant, my marriage of 16+ years was effectively over.

Days later, he was involved with someone else and our legal battles (divorce proceedings) began.  I was stressed to the max, attempting to maintain my sanity in the midst of the chaos of managing a household, three small children, and my business – all with little financial support and no communication between my estranged husband and myself.

Within 10 short months, in May of 2005, the stress I was under finally took its toll.  I landed at my local ER with extreme nausea, weakness, and in great need of medical help.  Thankfully, I was transferred the next day to a major Boston medical facility where I was immediately placed in the Intensive Care Unit.  Within a few days I was informed I was experiencing liver failure and would need a liver transplant, just before falling into a two-month coma.

Fortunately, I was the recipient of a non-compatible blood type organ of a 21-year-old young woman from Appalachia, VA, who passed away the night before my transplant from complications of a car accident.  I coded twice during the surgery –once for more than two minutes when they discovered a blood clot in my new liver and had to remove it to check for other clots and re-transplant.  My family was told I wouldn’t be the same cognitively and may need long-term care.  To make matters potentially worse, during a routine CT scan they detected an abscess on my brain and contacted my parents for their approval on emergency brain surgery – all while I was still in a coma.

According to Wikipedia’s definition of forgiveness, the term is defined as “the process of concluding resentment, indignation or anger as a result of a perceived offense, difference or mistake, and/or ceasing to demand punishment or restitution.”

I clearly remember a pity party I was holding for myself when I expressed my suicidal desires to my parents (my caretakers at the time) and all that I wanted to return to normal.  I wanted the status quo again: my health back, my kids, my home, my ability to work.  But on and on through the sobbing, my dad said, “Nancy – your only job right now is to get better.  If you don’t get better, nothing else matters.”

I can’t say I accepted his advice without resentment the moment it was uttered, but within a few days, I began to try to think about what I was grateful for.  I was grateful I didn’t have to do anything but lay on that sofa and rest, eat what I could (that I didn’t have to make for myself), wasn’t responsible for the day-to-day tasks of taking care of my beautiful children (because I was clearly unable to do so), and on and on grew my list of things to be grateful for.
Over time, gratitude leads to forgiveness, and today, I frequently comment to many in my life that I am grateful to my ex-husband, as he is still and always will be the father of my three beautiful children.  He’s more involved now as a father than he ever was before, and I’m grateful to him for that.  He’s an excellent provider, and we agree on most things related to our children and what’s best for them.

After 16 months – several of which were in the hospital, rehabilitation and numerous return trips, after losing my health, custody of my three children, and my ability to work and take care of myself – I finally returned to the town I had spent 15 years in and was home to my children before I had become ill.  I rented an apartment and saw my children every afternoon after school and had dinner with them, then returned to my apartment to regain my strength and rest and looked forward to seeing them again the next day.

The Chinese symbol of crisis is comprised of two characters.  One is opportunity; the other is danger.  When experiencing a life crisis – as I did during those few years, including separation, divorce, betrayal, illness, near death, medical complications, loss of my home, ability to work and live independently, and on and on – it’s difficult to see where the opportunity lies.

Today, though, I can honestly say that I am grateful for the experience (although I wouldn’t want to re-live a day of it).  It has provided me with greater compassion for others and what they go through, and it has created a path for me to experience forgiveness and act in ways that show my forgiveness to others – namely my ex-husband.

“The practice of forgiveness is our most important contribution to the healing of the world.”

Marianne Williamson

“He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love.”

Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. (1029 – 1968)