A few weeks ago, a girl I know was killed. I didn't like her. I had a grudge against her from when we were kids. Yet, after her death, I thought.... should I have tried to forgive her?
Grudges are childish— something I've held to since I was a child myself. Yet, in recent years, I seem to have forgotten, for I have a list of those I dislike.
All of them, people who have hurt my family.
I decided to forgive them. To try.
Which brings us to today.
•
The grudges have returned full force
I'm so angry with my grandmother. My dad's mom.
She was a horrible mother and it makes me so exceedingly angry. Sometimes— quite often— I think that the only reason I suffer now is because of how she treated my dad.
And now she sends Christmas cards and checks. "To my wonderful son and his family."
And what, should I forget the past?
How can I? I should, I know I should, but oh my gosh.
I'm just pacing in the living room; moving with my boiling blood.
Did you forget the first forty years of his life? Did you forget the way you treated him since childhood?
The way you looked down on all my father's accomplishments until, finally, you deemed him worthy.
Everything he's done, his accomplishments, are in spite of you.
Did you forget the way you treated my mother since their marriage?
The way you sneered at my mother for the way she chose to raise and educate us, her children? You still sneer, I think, until we can perfectly prove ourselves to you.
And yet, they— my parents— still seem to respect you as a mother.
How dare anyone expect the same of me.
12-21-23
YOU ARE READING
Afternoon Thoughts
Non-Fictionメ Thoughts of a bleeding mind. Sometimes, the darkest thoughts swirl to become the most beautiful dance when woven into words. To write calms me. Perhaps someone will know these feelings.
