Twisted Roots and Fallen Branches – Chapter 1
Once upon a time there was a girl. She grew up in what would probably be considered an unconventional home largely because her family did not fit the mold of what families were supposed to look like back then. After all, it was the 70’s. However, despite her family’s general lack of conformity, she was loved by those who mattered. The fact that she was unloved by those who should have mattered is not the point. The point is she had a roof over her head, food in her belly and a shirt on her back. The girl’s humble upbringing gave her a certain sense of security, yet she didn’t always feel safe. The girl was vaguely aware of concealed irregularities, while she also knew that there was a mysterious skeleton that lingered inside her closet who was responsible for much of her internal conflict. As a result, she became suspicious and wary of most people which predictably manifested over time. As she got older and more aware of her surroundings, her inherent cautious nature only deepened, compelling her to intensify her need to protect herself and those in her charge, also known as her children. Through the years, she was never someone that could easily be described because she was, admittedly, not easy to get to know. Observations of other people’s behaviors and actions took her down paths of discontent and extreme self-analysis as it became evident that she had become the square peg who was perpetually trying to fit into the round hole. In fact, she continues to live her life that way. You see, from the moment the girl was born, she had been willfully and indelibly harmed. The wind blew, the cradle rocked, the bough broke and the girl fell.
Although the girl was not visibly wounded, time would prove that it was her vulnerable heart that bore the brunt of that consequential fall. It’s an ordinary story really and not exactly a tale untold. The girl had no father which, when said out loud, sounds ridiculous. It is not as if she was born from an immaculate conception, nor was she flown in on the wings of a stork. She was simply the product of a union that resulted in immediate paternal abandonment. Which is just a detached way of saying that her father left before she was even born. It should have been the stork that brought her because that would have been a much more fun story to tell. Instead, the girl has chosen to rarely, if ever, speak of it out loud because she found it difficult to speak of something that she herself has never accepted or fully understood. It was when she was alone with her thoughts that she allowed her curiosity to wonder about the man who never became her father. It was in those moments of deep reflection that she could speak to herself freely and give voice to a wide range of emotions, some of which were intent on pulling her beneath the surface of the water in an effort to drown her. In her younger years, she spent an inordinate amount of time considering the kind of man who could participate in the creation of life only to abandon it without a single backward glance. With dueling emotions that usually vacillated between unrelenting anger at this selfish man while, at the same time, foolishly continuing to hold onto the hope of meeting him some day, she was fraught with confusion in her futile attempts to rationalize that which was fundamentally irrational and unfair. But, among many other difficult and harsh lessons the girl was forced to learn without her prior consent, life has taught her that fair rarely has anything to do with it. And then, in his final selfish act, the girl’s father died, hammering the last nail into the coffin that the girl had built for him years before and burying with him any remaining hope as she came to the fated realization that her lifetime of questions would be forever unanswered.
The loss, however, felt strangely profound because, In the girl’s world, he had already died a thousand deaths. A blatant disregard for the most basic parent code of accountability and responsibility that was callously dropped inside the cradle of an unsuspecting and defenseless baby should be unforgiveable. Because although the girl knows that his abrupt and unceremonious departure was not her fault, what he left behind proved to be, after all, her burden. Some believe that in order to find inner peace, we must forgive freely and accept the sins of others with grace and understanding. The girl, however, does not necessarily subscribe to that particular philosophy. The man’s abandonment was chockful of lessons that he taught the girl from a distance without even knowing he was doing it. And forgiveness was most certainly not on the syllabus. So, what do you think? In life or death, were the man’s actions not egregious enough, therefore, the girl should offer forgiveness and be grateful for the cruel life lesson that was forced upon her? That depends entirely on who you ask. Ernest Hemingway is quoted as having said, “To understand is to forgive. That’s not true. Forgiveness has been exaggerated.” Maybe he was right. Or maybe, considering how he met his own demise, he might not be the best muse to offer advice on this topic. And yet, maybe the girl’s father is just another example of someone who is simply not worthy of forgiveness, with or without the benefit of the girl’s understanding. But then again, who are we to decide whose sins are unpardonable?
The truth is forgiveness does not come easily to most people. Take a look around. The world provides us with a plethora of examples of what ‘forgiveness’ really looks like in real time. And it usually comes up woefully short. In theory ‘to forgive and forget’ is the adopted mantra that, on its face, would be admirable if only it weren’t so unconvincing. Maybe we should consider choosing different words because ‘forgive’ and ‘forget’ are catastrophically missing the mark. Despite what is said to the contrary and as we see demonstrated time and time again, some people’s actions cannot, and will not, be forgiven. And even knowing that, we continue to carry the flag of forgiveness above our heads as we put on a brave face and illustrate to anyone watching that our inner strength is immeasurable and indestructible. We knowingly do this to our own detriment. It has been said that it is the weak among us who cannot forgive while true forgiveness can only be found in the strong. Yet that sentiment, in very short order, negates the everlasting effects of wrongdoing thereby creating a false sense of healing.
Ernest Hemingway said, “You are so brave and quiet I forget you are suffering.” And there it is. Such a simple idea really, but one that makes the argument all the more plausible. Isn’t outwardly projecting strength and bravery while we continue to inwardly suffer in silence nothing more than a lie that we tell to ourselves and others because we have been told that we must accept the unacceptable in order to achieve inner peace? Maybe those among us who are reluctant to offer forgiveness freely are the real truthtellers. A willingness to depart from the lies and decidedly honor, rather than dismiss, their pain in order to put others, especially the person who wronged them, at ease. And yet, some will insist that the offender who inflicted harm is not really the intended recipient of forgiveness and amenable exoneration. Even with that understanding, for all intents and purposes, it would seem that it is oftentimes the offender who generally gets the better end of the deal. The girl, however, was irreparably and irreversibly damaged by her father who gave her nothing, therefore in life or death and in the spirit of reciprocation, she can only offer him the same.
It was Ernest Hemingway who said, “The best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues make them vulnerable; they are often wounded, sometimes destroyed.” Yes. Because it is often those same people who refuse to accept deliberate, premeditated maltreatment and make few excuses for their inability to forgive and forget. It begs a confounding question that has yet to find a suitable and all-encompassing answer, which is what is the universal qualifier of forgiveness amid the perception of redeemable sin? Even still, maybe the act of forgiveness is overrated as it is frequently misconstrued and, more often than not and in many cases, considered to be a willful and mostly involuntary concession. Maybe it must be about acceptance rather than forgiveness as we learn over time to accept that which we cannot change. And even knowing that acceptance is all that we are left with, it can still feel like an abdication as we force ourselves to surrender to the circumstances that were, in all likelihood, well beyond our control. Therefore, to mitigate any further damage and for our own protection, we wrap steel around our hearts so that even when we are confronted with wild and uncontrollable flames, we will not get burned. The truth is, there is no right answer and every situation either warrants forgiveness, or at minimum acceptance, or it doesn’t. As Ernest Hemingway put it, “We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master.”
The man, for his part, made a fateful choice that proved to be eternal. Whether or not it was a regrettable choice is something that we will never know. But what can easily be discerned is that the choice was immoral and unambiguously cruel. Ernest Hemingway said, “So far, about morals, I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and what is immoral is what you feel bad after.” And although that could be considered an oversimplification, if we are meant to believe it, then the man had only himself to blame because, as we know all too well, actions have inevitable consequences. How rich with truth could his life really have been having spent the majority of it living a lie? For the girl, it was not a matter of feeling loved or hated by someone who should have been significant in her life, rather it was always the indifference that plagued her and proved to be the root of her suffering. As family trees go, you might imagine that the girl’s tree was a bit of a wonder as it was misshapen and unbalanced. With its twisted roots that would never be disentangled along with the fallen branches that intentionally detached from the tree and disappeared. In the beginning, the girl curiously studied her family tree oftentimes searching for some of the branches that had fallen off and gone away. Learning the harsh reality that it is nothing more than a fool’s errand to search for something that clearly does not want to be found. It was the man’s cowardice, his unscrupulous abandonment and unalterable retreat that emerged as the girl’s catalyst in her heartfelt anger towards him. And, in both life and death, that will forever be his consequence.
Ernest Hemingway said, “The rain will stop, the night will end, the hurt will fade. Hope is never so lost that it can’t be found.” For many years, the girl deeply felt the loss of hope at what never was and what never would be. And it didn’t take too long for the girl to replace any remaining hope with anger towards that man who would never become her father. Oftentimes she felt like she was tethered and locked inside a cage of curiosity like a wild and angry bull. A cage where someone else always maintained a tight grip on the key that could set her free. In the end, and as the story goes, it is the strength of conviction that stemmed from her anger that is ultimately what saved the girl. It was because of the anger that persistently challenged her resolve, forcing her to learn to tolerate the intolerable that is when she eventually stumbled upon reconciliation. It is the part of her story that she knew she must accept in order to find peace. As Ernest Hemingway said, “The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.” And unlike fractured and broken branches that can never be recovered and reattached to the tree, the girl knows that the wound that her heart sustained will always be fragile and will reopen from time to time, but it will mend. And it must, if she means to survive.
To be continued…….
DISCLAIMER: All quotes were found on quotes.thefamouspeople.com and azquotes.com and are understood to be true statements, fictional or otherwise, referenced for the sole purpose of illustrating a point. Quotes have been bolded and italicized to provide a delineation from the author’s perspective.