As She Lay Dying II

image from google

The weighty topic of forgiveness has been offered by Mary over at Poetry Jam. Who was it (besides Oprah) who said "Forgiveness means giving up the hope that the past can be any different"? Oprah also repeats fairly often, "Anger is like drinking poison and hoping the other guy dies."  Well, now. Let me noodle along this path for a bit.

Driving through the night

to be at her bedside

as she lay dying,

I listened to Caroline Myss

speaking about

forgiveness.

"Learning the power 

of forgiveness

is essential

to your spiritual path."

I look up at the moon,

serene in the sky,

shining her light

on the peaceful and the fractious

alike.

Just let it all go:

missed connections,

misperceptions,

all the words

 it was never possible

to express.

It is the soul's journey now.

All is forgiven,

all will soon

be understood.

"I love you," I say,

looking into her eyes.

"I love you too,"

she mouths,

for the first time, ever.

There is nothing more

that really

needs to be said.

A weight lifts off my heart

as hers flies

out of the window

and away.

Now we both

are flying free.

The Case Against Forgiveness

[Dr. William Petit of Connecticut, his daughters Hayley and Michaela, and his wife Jennifer]

(posted for Poets United Think Tank prompt: forgiveness)

I know all the words about forgiveness. I've done the work, and I can talk the talk. "Holding onto anger and hatred is like drinking poison, and hoping the other guy dies." "We forgive for ourselves, not for the other person." And "Until we forgive, there is no healing."

"Who am I, now?" this good man asks, "now that I am no longer a doctor,

I no longer have a wife, or two daughters, or a home? Who am I now?"

Today I watched a heartbroken man speak of his heartbreak, of the hole in his heart and the hole in his soul caused when two ex-convicts on parole left their halfway house, chose his house at random, beat him unconscious, tied him up,  raped and assaulted and tortured his wife and daughters, then poured gasoline over them and set the house on fire. Still tied up, he  managed to roll himself up the stairs and out the basement door,rolling across the lawn to the neighbours to get his family help, as his house and his family were burning. Help came too late.

"Who am I now?" he asks, "now that  I no longer have my daughters and their future,

which was my future? Who am I now?"

He began a Foundation to do good works in the name of his wife and daughters. "By doing good works, in their honor, I believe goodness will overcome evil," he said. "I have a jagged hole in my heart, a jagged hole in my soul. I don't think it will ever go away. But waves of goodness, when they come, help to smooth the jagged edges a little."

"Who am I now?" he asks, "now that I am no longer a doctor, no longer a husband,

now I no longer have a home,

or a family. Who am I now?"

The interviewer spoke about forgiveness. I knew the question was coming and I rejected it for him. How could he possibly ever forgive such bestial acts? "Do you think you can forgive?" He looked back steadily. "You can forgive someone who slaps you in the face. You can forgive someone who insults you. You can forgive someone who causes an accident. But forgiving the essence of evil is not appropriate. No, I cannot forgive."

He said, and the words rang true and right, that forgiving the essence of evil

is not appropriate,

and thus, he cannot forgive.

If you wish to support the foundation Dr. Petit started in their name, information is available at http://www.petitfamilyfoundation.org/