Forgiveness

 I'm going to start this off by saying that I know right away some of my family members will disagree with me. That is ok. You all are allowed your opinions but I'm allowed mine. Your experiences with this were different than mine and Quinn's. 

So, like a lot of areas in my life these days, my perspective has changed. I've spent the better half (mostly all) of the last 14 years (yes, August has been 14 years) trying, begging, pleading, arguing, hoping that dad would wake up and come back to us. I've called, written letters, texted, and anything I could to try to reach him. I've been as genuine as I possibly could have, angry, hurt, honest, but nothing has worked. 

I'm sure most of you have your own feelings towards him, some or most still holding on to hope I suppose. I was like you until recently.

Even through the missed births of my children. Where I messaged him and said, "just come to the hospital, I'll put them in the nursery so you can see your grandbabies and not have to see me." He's missed out on my kids' entire lives. Even when my kids use to ask "mom, who's your dad? Why is he mad at you? If he would just come to play with us, he would love us!" Yes, my sweet children, he would have. Going to family functions is never ever easy for me. In fact, more often than not, it hurts me. I see the cousins there with their dad. I see the other kids, with their grandparents and realize my kids don't have that, I don't have that. So, 9 times out of 10 I leave early because it bothers me so much and no one but me seems to be bothered by it so I remove myself from the situation. I always feel like the black sheep of the family because the family all have their outside of the holiday group conversations because they're little family groups come together during the holidays. I don't have that and therefore have not much to say because it's awkward. 

He's missed my marriage to my amazing husband, whom he will never meet. He can't come to hang out and throw back a few beers and "shoot the shit" with him like I know my husband would enjoy. He didn't have much of a father figure growing up (he does now) and I know he would so much enjoy more of that connection. 

He has and will miss all of Quinn's great accomplishments. For what? Pride? I look at my kids and I could NEVER cause the damage, the hurt, and heartache he's caused to them. It makes me sick just thinking I might miss my kids' weddings, their children's births, or just their crazy life journey because of cancer but to miss it because I chose to? Fuck. It sickens me.

He missed a lot of my great milestones, at this point nearly HALF of my life, ALL of my children's' lives. And yet, until recently, I still tried. How stupid of me. Looking back I think how much time I wasted, tears I wasted on that man. Now, he knows about my cancer and STILL does not give a single fuck about me. That really stung. The one person who biologically is programmed to love you doesn't. One of the only people who should be at your side supporting you, cheering you on, or catching you when you fall, isn't there. He knows my situation, knows what my future might bring, what it might bring to my family and he still does not care. 

To say the least, this really made me angry. Not so much sad anymore, but raw, deep anger. I was not handling that well. On top of my worrying for my family and myself I was trying to process this information and what it meant. I spent the better part of a day angry crying on and off. I tried everything I could to try to pep myself back up. I took a walk with the family, listened to upbeat music and danced, went for a drive, but still without warning the tears came. Then during my drive, I just felt it. I don't know how to explain it but I felt it in the pit of my stomach. I pulled over at the stop sign, tears streaming uncontrollably. Derek asked what in the world I was doing. I said, "hold on I have to do something." I pulled out my phone and sent dad a text. 

I told him, "I forgive you." It was longer than that but the rest is mostly irrelevant. I told him I couldn't let my heart hurt anymore. It was obvious what his decision was and that I had to accept it. This was me accepting it and moving on with my life. I'm free now.

I see now who cares about me and who supports me, it isn't him. That's ok because I don't need him, I've lived my life, doing everything on my own and did fairly well for myself. My life hasn't been perfect, obviously, I've messed up here and there but overall, I've done a lot of good. I know that I am a good person. Despite a lot of bad things I've dealt with, I am a good person. My children are good people. They will stumble at times in life and I know I will be there until I'm physically unable to be, to support their ups and downs. That's enough reassurance for me in life. I won't be the kind of parent he is. I get to be the parent that he never has been or will be to his children. 

There will be not one more second wasted of my life on him. No more tears. No more anger. No more wondering if/how/when. I can be at peace knowing that I do have a family and I made it myself and they all love me.

After that moment, I feel like I've come to accept a lot more things. I haven't had a "pity me" day since then. I feel hopeful. I feel like cancer or no cancer I'm going to live, really live, until I don't. I can't change my situation or what's happening to me so… I can fight and do my best. That's all there is. So if/when chemo is done, I'm going to fully indulge in life and I'm going to put all my energy into loving those who love me because they deserve it. In the meantime, the battle continues! 

P.S. I love you guys!!