My son, Lee, recently had his heart broken. The worse part of it was that his anger and violence flared and became the straw that broke the camel’s back in their relationship. Would he and his girlfriend have ended anyway? Probably. Was she the one? Probably not. The breakup is not the saddest part. The worst part is that he lost control of himself and in a moment of weakness pushed her away – physically and emotionally.
That week, my husband, William, went out of town on a business trip. Left alone, the feelings surrounding my part in my son’s drama surfaced in full force. I had been holding them back to put my effort into helping Lee heal, and in hiding my disturbing feelings from my husband. When left alone, all the emotion flooded in, and the crying began. The grieving for the loss of a chance that I will never have again, to parent a young person properly, flared in my face. The strongest guilt was due to the passing of the violent legacy of my ancestors to him before I found enough help and courage to stop the cycle of abuse and violence.
The legacy issue is not about the forgiveness of him for me, or me for my parents. The lessons about what is and is not forgivable were learned long ago. The feelings today are around a deep, never-ending feeling that I failed him as a parent when he was young. Yes, I did a lot of things right, and yes, I’ve made it up to him as much as is possible in his adult life, but it’s there. It’s always there – the fact that I damaged the person I love most in the world.
The harm I caused to the son who came out of my body and trusted me to love and care for him is forever on my soul. It’s a burden I often forget but am never totally free of. I now have peace in my life, and I’ve placed the evil deeds in their proper place along with the damage that was caused to me by my parents, teachers, godless preachers, and romantic relationships, but the guilt never leaves me.
I know there are others who feel this way about their own transgressions toward their loved ones. I can’t write a tool or a parable to give anyone hope or guarantees that the guilty feelings will end. It is a fact and will not end. I hope if anything, you will find that you are not alone if you read this article. That’s the best I can offer you.
As I cry and release, the immediate pressure of the situation subsides. Each time I return from grieving this particular loss, it doesn’t control me or bring sadness to my daily life, but it can’t be undone. Healing ebbs and flows as life progresses for Lee and me, but the fact remains – I hurt my son.
If you are the one who was hurt by a repentant parent or other, maybe article will shed light the burden of guilt that consciousness brings to the one who hurt you. My hope is that you can understand the deep sorrow and remorse of the one who perpetrated such an unforgiveable act, if they have done the work and come to the realization of the harm they caused. I further hope that you might feel a little bit of relief in knowing that they love you enough to feel that deeply, thoroughly, and sincerely the regret.
Here’s To Hope,
Maryclara
