Releasing Resolution Requiem

I've been advised not to write about this subject. I've spent a few days thinking about it. I think the experience is worth sharing. It is a complex and tender subject that deserves to be recognized and properly shared. Because it is so tender and complex, properly sharing the nuances of the experience is very important. If improperly shared, many feelings could be hurt and outright anger could be directed at me or those I love. I don't want to cause anyone any pain, and I certainly don't want misunderstandings to result in unneeded anger towards anyone. Still, if I think the nuances of this experience might help someone out there (including myself); isn't it worth giving it a go? With this in mind, here is what I have to say today.

A few days ago I found out that someone died. I was surprised at my emotional reaction. I was so surprised that I shared it with BB, GL and my dad. It was my dad that advised me not to share my experience, and I agreed with him.

Yet, as the days progressed I continued to re-evaluate my reaction and wondered many things. I constantly asked myself if I was lying to myself about one half of my initial emotional reaction. I decided after a few days that I definitely was not lying to myself. I wondered if this realization was based in egoism, or if my commitment to the Dalai Lama's teachings had taken hold. I had to admit that a part of it was based in egoism; as sense of achievement and pride that I had transcended some baser emotional responses. This does not sit well with me, but it is the truth. It's like saying, "HA!" to the ignorant and simple mindsets that I abhor which only makes me realize how much more work I have to do with the whole compassion and understanding thing. This led to thinking about what I have learned as a result of a few experiences tied to the person that died. Goodness. This led to even more questions and probing for answers. Tired yet? I was.

You see, when I heard that this person died; I felt happy for two reasons. I was happy that his pain and suffering was over; he was released. This bit of happiness also contained respect for his family and friends who had cared for him and loved him throughout his illness and before. I respected their love and grief in the moment and knew that I would never want to bring them any pain. I was happy that the person had so many friends, family, former co-workers and students who loved him. I hoped that they would all find some sort of release from the immediate pain of losing him. This was certainly a good thing.

It was the other happy that made me stop in my kitchen, the heart of a home, and ponder, "Where is this happy coming from?" My immediate response and understanding said that this happy was because I was released. A weight had been lifted. You see, I spent most of my life not liking this person for reasons that I thought were very valid. I'd often thought of writing a letter to finally explain what this person had done to my childhood, but I could never come up with the right words or tone. I couldn't bring myself to trust this person to understand what I was trying to say. My perceptions stood in the way of resolving a lifelong issue, and on the day that this person died I was released from having to figure all that out; I was free to go forward and leave this issue behind, or so I thought.

My happiness was not rooted in vengeance or revenge. This is what I investigated for the past few days. I've searched every bit of my being and have come up with the same answer, "My happiness was a simple, highly personal, intimate release of one more negative issue in my life when I am focused on releasing as much negativity as possible. My happiness was selfish because I am learning to be selfish and to let go of silly, little, self-perceived negative experiences; so that, I can continue to go forward and become the person I dream of becoming; a wise, compassionate, complex, understanding, loving grandma. If any part of my happiness was based in vengeance and revenge, I would admit it because it would show me just how far I have to go on my path. I would not be writing this post about this subject until I had resolved some of those issues because to me this is the story; overcoming hurt and anger and focusing on the learning and achieving.

I'm confident that these feelings and statements are true. I believe I know myself in this area. I have experienced enough pain in my life that I have an aversion to causing anyone else any pain to such a degree that I often hurt myself rather than hurt others. This is not healthy, and I am working on it.

So initially I felt happy. When I shared this surprising reaction with BB and GL, they listened attentively and responded with such kindness and insight.

"Goodness Gracious," I thought hearing my grandmas voices in my head, "I am so lucky to have two people in the world who listen to me, trust that I'm telling the truth; and then, offer clarity and kindness. I am so lucky to have such complex and compassionate children."

"So your happiness is because you feel like you don't have to deal with this any more," they both said.

"Yeah," I responded and felt a little mental tug which signaled that in actuality I did have more to do.

I was mistaken. I discovered that I owed it to myself, my children, my family, and the person that died to get to the heart of the matter. I rolled my eyes many times during the next few days wishing to put it all aside. I did put it aside and focused on my grandgirls, children, potential jobs, mundane tasks and just me in general; but it nagged at me.

If I was going to really say that I was released, I had more to do. The signs were simple; each time I saw a mention of how wonderful this person was I had that knee-jerk reaction to respond, "No they weren't!" I didn't respond when I felt this way. I understood that this was an indicator or more internal work to be done. I did the work, and have arrived at the following realizations; many, many realizations.

To start off with, the person that died and I have many things in common. As humans, we made our mistakes and had our achievements. We were liked by some and not liked by others. We liked some and disliked others. Basic boring stuff, but to accept a person's humanity is one of the first steps to healing and forgiving.

More to the point, we both loved basketball, English, and being a bit eccentric; or shall I say, "individualistic." I think we both took some sort of pleasure in intellectual pursuits, too. We both liked to write. We both loved nature. We both loved farms. I'd even say that we both loved cows. I also believe that we were both good teachers. Another thing that I think we had in common is a difficulty taking orders from people we perceived to be imposing their will on us or with whom we flat out disagree.

OK, I have admitted that we shared some similarities that I consider mainstays of my life, but that does not sum up all the realizations or even the most important realizations. The most important realizations come from the one negative experience I held on to for so long; a public campaign to have my dad removed from his job that was spearheaded by the person who died.

What I have finally admitted to myself is that the person who died may have led the charge, but many people played a part in the disaster that entered my childhood. To my dad's credit, he has said that he didn't properly prepare me for being the child of a public figure, nor did he prepare me to simply be his daughter. According to dad, he's the kind of person that people seem to have strong emotions about; they either love him or hate him. He didn't prepare me to deal with all the bad things that people would say and do because they didn't like him. So there's the only bit of resolution I'd gotten on the whole issue until today. Nobody else has ever said anything to me. I'm sure nobody ever really knew how deeply this impacted my life. I don't know if the person who died ever fully realized the major shift his leadership and writing skills created in my home and public life. I'm sure that he didn't at the time. I'll never know, will I. I do know that up until a few years ago people were still apologizing to my dad for having signed The Petition that was published in the local newspaper.

It's the public part of the whole experience that was hard to take. I'd been reading since I was three, so picking up a newspaper and reading The Petition, letters, and signatures of so many family friends was devastating. I was young enough to not understand and only be hurt and distrustful of everyone I came into contact with after that. The comments by fellow students ranging from elementary school to high school caused a lot of hurt feelings and fights. No kid likes to hear bad things about their parents, and no kid likes to read bad things in the newspaper about their parents.

It was around this time that I started getting picked on during my bus rides home, too. This ended when I got beat up by a high school bully. I couldn't hide the marks or the broken glasses. Getting beat up because someone hates your dad is pretty terrible, too. I've always wondered if the public nature of the campaign for my dad's job had anything to do with it. It was a vitriolic campaign. Did the boy feel a sense of freedom and support in expressing his anger? Certainly taking it out on me was wrong, but life hadn't ever reached these extremes before.

So there I was doing my best to defend my dad out in the world, and at home the tension was almost unbearable at times. My parents felt so betrayed. Our happy home was invaded not only by the newspaper articles but also by the gossip. Oh how the people gossiped. They never stopped after that point either. It got so bad in years to come that I swear I saw a neighbor with binoculars focused on our house. I'd like to think that memory is more imagination than fact, but I have this image. If nothing else, it is a picture of how I felt growing up in my home town as my parents' daughter.

I couldn't trust anyone, really. Anyone could stab me in the back at any time, and I put on a cavalier attitude to mask my disgust. It didn't help, and in fact, added fuel to the fire. I talked too much about my home life. It was if to say, "You people did this to my home, so you want something to talk about - Here!" What a childish mistake. This added to the gossip.

The Vicious Circle, as dear Mary Parker would make famous, had a branch office in my home town. I wasn't completely sure who they were and figured that most everybody I knew played some part in wanting to see my family fail. During all this time, I rarely talked to my parents about what I was experiencing. They asked, but I just said things were fine. I don't know if they believed me. They did try to convince me that there were good people, and that gossip was something that people did. They tried to convince me to pay no attention to it all. I couldn't ignore it. It was everywhere. Besides, I'd been raised not to gossip and to have compassion and understanding for people. This was a family credo. How could other people play in this hurtful, lying, disgusting arena? What kind of Jack-Asses were they? I never could let go of my hurt, anger and distrust. I also developed an inflated ego because I sincerely thought that I was better than most because I didn't gossip and would never play dirty like so many I had the displeasure of knowing. These were my perceptions during my childhood that went from idyllically happy to absolutely dismal. I wish I'd been able to lighten up like my parents tried to inspire me to do. I wish I could've just let it go; roll off my back like water off a duck's tail, so to speak. What was done was done, though.

So given all of this, there are still more realizations. Certainly I've learned throughout the years that some of the most valuable lessons come from "your enemies." I certainly considered the person who died an enemy.

I considered him such an enemy that I took a class from him in high school. This didn't sit well with my parents. They thought it best to stay away. I didn't need to take his class. There were plenty of other classes I could take. They didn't understand my need to count coupe. I needed to glare at him for one class period a day for a semester. I needed to NOT laugh at his jokes and egocentricities. I needed to show him that he was hated by one. Again, it was childish. More importantly, it really didn't solve anything. I sat front and center in his class and glared at him for a semester. I got my "A" because I deserved it. Our teacher/student relationship on an academic level was professional and curt. His notes on my papers were to the point and not sugary. He was a good teacher, and I never let him know it. It was my childish revenge. Neither of us ever addressed the past issue of his campaign and subsequent removal as my dad's assistant coach.

You see, the school administration ended up backing my dad. Yes, he won. Yippee.

Thing was that the gossiping and backstabbing never stopped from that point on. It was as though the person who died opened Pandora's Box, and all the demons rushed out into my home town and into our home. It was never the same after that.

"He ruined my childhood," I've thought for years.

I have finally put it into perspective. It only took a little over forty years.

So I've realized that while I don't know all the details of what happened to make the person who died take the actions that he did so long ago, I don't care any more. I forgive him his mistakes. He was young and human. He had his path to travel. I don't think he took one moment to consider that his actions would so adversely and so positively impact my life. You see, he has been one of my "best teachers", too; just not for all the reasons that my classmates voted him their "Favorite Teacher."

The person who died spearheaded a campaign and used his charm and leadership skills to convince many to follow him without talking to my dad first. Oh the lessons in that action. You can see them all, can't you. I do.

The person who died wasn't solely responsible for what happened, and certainly wasn't responsible for my grudge and childishness. I really do wish that I'd lightened up a whole lot, and I'm working on it.

I formed a strong belief that people should consider what they are saying, and how they are saying it because most everyone has a child or family member who is an "innocent" and can be hurt by the ensuing events. Basically, think before you speak and choose the proper forum. Remember the Ripple Effect.

Youth is wasted on the young. Having had the experience of hanging out with the 20-something crowd, I've come to realize that a bit of confidence twisted can become arrogance when filtered through any mind. The energy and conviction to prove a point and get a way can interfere with solving a problem when fueled by youthful arrogance. It is a cautionary tale worth repeating. This is not to be confused with talent, desire, and all the good things that many (SA!) youthful (BB!) people (GL!) have. Sometimes we just want what we want and get caught up in it. Sometimes our ego gets in the way. Our misguided strength determines how wide the scythe will cut and how deeply the knife will be thrust.

Collateral damage is not acceptable. It's an unfortunate part of life that can take years to clear up and make amends for. When the effort to clear things up and make amends is not taken, a person must realize that it is up to them to heal old wounds because that's what adults do. Adults think about how they can be the best people they can be because they are leaders and responsible for their actions. Adults understand that children need to be protected; and that, adults are role models for many more people than they ever imagined that they would be. Giving up an egocentric way of life is beneficial because it can be replaced with social responsibility. Kindness is key.

The depth of dispair can be healed through concentrated commitment to a better life. Getting rid of old hurts is worth it. Period.

Talking with my parents or anyone who cared about me would've been a great choice. It would have saved me years of pain and poor choices. Realizing how deeply this hurt went and how it clouded so many of my choices and perceptions has provided an insight into the workings of my child's mind. My world was a scary, painful place when I was a kid for a lot of reasons and seldom did I tell anyone. I held it inside and wanted to be brave. It got all messed up inside until I didn't know how to talk to anyone. I withdrew and nursed my hurts. My life has been a long journey of internal hurt. It's time to stop it all, so I'm writing it all down because maybe someone else can benefit from it. I'm giving up my egocentric ways and focusing on how I can my family and friends; and thus, I will help myself.

Hurting someone unintentionally is not something to beat yourself up about. It may be something to say you're sorry for, but it is definitely not something to beat yourself up about.

Forgive yourself. Forgive others. Forgive.

We're all human and capable of great mistakes and hurting those we have no intention of hurting. With that in mind, we are also capable of great achievements and helping those we don't even know.

Gossip is bad, but buying into it is even worse. Gossip seems to be a part of the human experience, so lightening up about it is in order and a goal. Is it what it is. It can be vicious and rooted in a person's hatred, and it can be humorous and rooted in telling a silly story. Usually it is exaggerated and has a few "false truths" in it. It remains a waste of my time; family upbringing and interest in journalism and all that.

Not everyone is going to get along. Period. Let it go. Move on. Whatever.

It's silly to hold on to a grudge for so long. It's silly to let something interfere with anyone's happiness when it is so old and petty. The world didn't really end. The tension and troubles were let loose, but I blew it out of proportion because it happened when I was a kid and never really came to grips with it all. I may never know how my perceptions and reactions impacted my major decisions, but I have a few inklings; and it was my continued attachment to the "wrongs" done to me and my family that skewed my existence. Had I just let it go .....

On that note, I think I've written about as much as I've ever written about anything or anyone. I think the person who died might enjoy that. He did many good things throughout his life like setting up a scholarship fund, being a good husband and father, being a favored teacher, being a respected writer, being a conscientious dairy farmer, and winning various awards and championships. I respect that about him. I respect his complexities and the amazingly large amount of stuff he taught me that he had no intention of teaching me. I also respect the tremendous amount of stuff that my parents tried to teach me and continue to try to teach me. They are all very different people, but I am a willing student of Life.

So in the end, which it is now, I can't say that I am grateful that I knew the person who died; but the person that died did provide me with many opportunities to learn and love. I am happy that he is not suffering any more. I am sorry for his family and friends. I think I can move on now to become a better person. This makes me happy and is the root of why I guess I felt happy initially.

Remember, emotions are just emotions. They happen. Finding out why may or may not be worth the effort. It may take years or seconds. It's nothing to be afraid of. We're all just human. We all have loves and hates. I think that if we really look for the similarities in each other that we will find them. At least we might reach a compassionate place within ourselves because we choose to let go of the anger and pain.

This is my requiem for the person who died. It is my very personal and intimate tribute. I decided to learn and grow up. I decided to let it all go and become who I'm meant to be; a loving and wise grandma.

We are released, and we are both free to fly.

"Even now, at the age of fifty,
Coming out of the barn after milking,
I cannot resist
Picking up a basketball
To loft some arcing jumpshots
On my home court,
The wide spot in the driveway.

In coveralls and rubber boots
I breathe deep and eye the rim,
Resighting free throws launched in college
That clanged off the iron."

- from "Shootout" by Mike O'Connell

**NOTE: I have re-read this post and discovered many typos and grammatical errors. T'would be nice to have an English Teacher edit my posts, sometimes. I'll fix 'em later. Off to eat Milk Duds.