Oct 26, 2015
Like a heavy stone I have carried it around constantly. At time almost suffocating me and I have been unable to break free. The guilt that I did not do enough for my parents. Guilt that they both ended their lives away from their homes, in private care.
I have talked to God and my sisters about it. I know I have my Fathers forgiveness and absolution and my sisters think I am crazy for even thinking this way. The doctor told me neither Mom or Dad would not be able to be cared for at home but still I was weighed down by guilt.
Then it struck me, I can't be free of guilt because I have not forgiven myself. It's only me that is pointing the accusing finger, back at myself. So this weekend on a walk in the middle of nowhere I looked back and forgave myself.
The me that signed papers to commit my father and watched him being taken away by ambulance, a part of me dying. I forgave myself.
The me that again signed papers to move my Dad into a private hospital, knowing that he did not want to be there but my Mom could not cope with him at home. I forgave myself.
The me that watched my Mom walk past a window completely confused, her hair in disarray- with dinner on the stove behind me and two small children, knowing I was about to break. I forgave myself.
The me that signed yet more papers to move my mother into a private hospital, knowing once again that this was not what she wanted but having no choice. I forgave myself.
I forgave myself for not being everything they needed. For not being enough. Freeing myself and my body of a negative toxic emotion. And finding peace.