David Baxter PhD
Late Founder
In Their Own Words: Five Stories of Healing and Forgiveness
by Lee Kravitz, Psychology Today
June 11, 2011
How to Reach Out and Make Amends
How do you heal old wounds? It often begins with a sudden realization, or a bold first step. Here, five readers reveal the rewards that come with reaching out and making amends.
Sibling Reunion
"My sister and I had a very bad falling out seven years ago," Rezza wrote. "We said horrible words to one another and she said she never wanted to hear from me again. Then our mom passed away. I stayed up many a night crying my heart out. My heart was breaking because I didn't have my sister, my only sibling, to talk to.
"Several months ago I finally got up the nerve to call her. I figured the worst that could happen was she would hang up on me. She didn't. When she picked up the phone, she told me how badly she had wanted to talk with me when our mom died but she had been afraid to call me. We talked for hours that night.
"Last month, my husband and I flew to Florida to see her. It was such a wonderful reunion and all the bad things we had said to one another were forgotten. We hugged, cried and hugged some more. It's been over a month since we saw each other but we talk every night and I can't wait until I see her again. I am so happy I got up the nerve to call her.
"Life is too short to say and do bad things to each other. I am 71 and my sister is 68. We have never been closer. I love my sister so much."
One Step at a Time
"After years of alcoholism and drug abuse, I turned my life over to a 12-step program," Czarmommy wrote: "I am 19 years, 10 months, 28 days clean and sober.
"I started small: calling a local car dealer ?Mr.' despite his insistence I call him Pat. I'd abused so many people, it was now my privilege to show them the respect they deserved. I went on to bigger things like returning items I'd ?borrowed' only never returned, then to money. My older brother had lent me $3000 at one time. I never paid it back, and it was the elephant in the room for me. At 13 years sober I did so (with interest). No more elephants!
"Going through some old picture albums, I found pictures of my ex-husband and his family, looked him up, and sent them to him, 30 years later, with a note wishing his life has been well. Now, I'm searching for an ex-boyfriend to right a wrong, lifting another burden, setting me free."
The Healing Power of Never Too Late
TJoyce wrote: "When I was in second grade the lady who had been our music teacher died after a long bout with cancer. Her daughter Mary was a classmate of ours. Adults told us not to think or talk about it. We were not supposed to feel sorry for Mary and to let her get right back to schoolwork."
Years later, TJoyce saw Mary's name on a classmate reunion site. "I immediately contacted Mary to tell her how much we all liked her mother and how bad I felt all these years. Mary wrote back and said she was very grateful, as she had not known about the ?gag order' and she had always thought that nobody cared. We cared. It took over 40 years, but Mary and I now have a friendship that I do not truly deserve, except for the healing power of never too late."
"I Got to Tell Her That I Loved Her"
"My mother died when I was 6; my dad remarried when I was 13 or 14. I was the typical stepson: a brat and a punk, self-centered and just a jerk. I showed my stepmother no respect."
Then "Mugger," as he called himself, had a change of heart. "I joined the Navy at 17 to get away from home. As I grew older, and maybe because of the Navy, I realized that my stepmother was a wonderful woman. The thing I am most thankful for is that I got to see her a few times before her death to let her know how much I cherished my time with her, I got to tell her I loved her. Thank God for that!"
Hugs, Tears and Acceptance
"Thirty-nine years ago, my fianc? drowned. I'd been very close to his parents, especially his mother," H.C. wrote. "The minister had told them to take a vacation away from home, and I thought it strange that they didn't talk to me before leaving. I was told they no longer wanted to see me, that my presence, at church and in their home, would be too painful for them. I was also told I wasn't good enough for their son, which is why God took him away! Not wanting to cause them more pain than losing their son, I moved away without another word to them.
"At 58, I made a trip back to my hometown this past summer for a class reunion and decided to relocate there. My dead fiance's mother is now in a care center. Once I worked up the courage to do so, I visited her. The immediate response of hugs and tears proved to me that she never told me to stay away! Her love, gentleness, kindness and acceptance of me, all these years later, have healed so many old wounds!
Lee Kravitz is the author of Unfinished Business: One Man's Extraordinary Year of Trying to Do the Right Things (Bloomsbury), from which these five reader stories were excerpted (paperback edition).
by Lee Kravitz, Psychology Today
June 11, 2011
How to Reach Out and Make Amends
How do you heal old wounds? It often begins with a sudden realization, or a bold first step. Here, five readers reveal the rewards that come with reaching out and making amends.
Sibling Reunion
"My sister and I had a very bad falling out seven years ago," Rezza wrote. "We said horrible words to one another and she said she never wanted to hear from me again. Then our mom passed away. I stayed up many a night crying my heart out. My heart was breaking because I didn't have my sister, my only sibling, to talk to.
"Several months ago I finally got up the nerve to call her. I figured the worst that could happen was she would hang up on me. She didn't. When she picked up the phone, she told me how badly she had wanted to talk with me when our mom died but she had been afraid to call me. We talked for hours that night.
"Last month, my husband and I flew to Florida to see her. It was such a wonderful reunion and all the bad things we had said to one another were forgotten. We hugged, cried and hugged some more. It's been over a month since we saw each other but we talk every night and I can't wait until I see her again. I am so happy I got up the nerve to call her.
"Life is too short to say and do bad things to each other. I am 71 and my sister is 68. We have never been closer. I love my sister so much."
One Step at a Time
"After years of alcoholism and drug abuse, I turned my life over to a 12-step program," Czarmommy wrote: "I am 19 years, 10 months, 28 days clean and sober.
"I started small: calling a local car dealer ?Mr.' despite his insistence I call him Pat. I'd abused so many people, it was now my privilege to show them the respect they deserved. I went on to bigger things like returning items I'd ?borrowed' only never returned, then to money. My older brother had lent me $3000 at one time. I never paid it back, and it was the elephant in the room for me. At 13 years sober I did so (with interest). No more elephants!
"Going through some old picture albums, I found pictures of my ex-husband and his family, looked him up, and sent them to him, 30 years later, with a note wishing his life has been well. Now, I'm searching for an ex-boyfriend to right a wrong, lifting another burden, setting me free."
The Healing Power of Never Too Late
TJoyce wrote: "When I was in second grade the lady who had been our music teacher died after a long bout with cancer. Her daughter Mary was a classmate of ours. Adults told us not to think or talk about it. We were not supposed to feel sorry for Mary and to let her get right back to schoolwork."
Years later, TJoyce saw Mary's name on a classmate reunion site. "I immediately contacted Mary to tell her how much we all liked her mother and how bad I felt all these years. Mary wrote back and said she was very grateful, as she had not known about the ?gag order' and she had always thought that nobody cared. We cared. It took over 40 years, but Mary and I now have a friendship that I do not truly deserve, except for the healing power of never too late."
"I Got to Tell Her That I Loved Her"
"My mother died when I was 6; my dad remarried when I was 13 or 14. I was the typical stepson: a brat and a punk, self-centered and just a jerk. I showed my stepmother no respect."
Then "Mugger," as he called himself, had a change of heart. "I joined the Navy at 17 to get away from home. As I grew older, and maybe because of the Navy, I realized that my stepmother was a wonderful woman. The thing I am most thankful for is that I got to see her a few times before her death to let her know how much I cherished my time with her, I got to tell her I loved her. Thank God for that!"
Hugs, Tears and Acceptance
"Thirty-nine years ago, my fianc? drowned. I'd been very close to his parents, especially his mother," H.C. wrote. "The minister had told them to take a vacation away from home, and I thought it strange that they didn't talk to me before leaving. I was told they no longer wanted to see me, that my presence, at church and in their home, would be too painful for them. I was also told I wasn't good enough for their son, which is why God took him away! Not wanting to cause them more pain than losing their son, I moved away without another word to them.
"At 58, I made a trip back to my hometown this past summer for a class reunion and decided to relocate there. My dead fiance's mother is now in a care center. Once I worked up the courage to do so, I visited her. The immediate response of hugs and tears proved to me that she never told me to stay away! Her love, gentleness, kindness and acceptance of me, all these years later, have healed so many old wounds!
Lee Kravitz is the author of Unfinished Business: One Man's Extraordinary Year of Trying to Do the Right Things (Bloomsbury), from which these five reader stories were excerpted (paperback edition).
