Over the weekend, I had a conversation with my father about his “brother,”‘ who disowned him over a decade ago over an inheritance (dad got everything from his mom, while his brothers received nothing). While it hurts my dad that his brother will not speak to him, and has publicly said that he has no brother, dad knows that there’s nothing he can do. He doesn’t hate him.
I, on the other hand, with my Braveheart blood, hate my uncle. To the point where, when he had emergency bypass surgery and came close to death, I didn’t care. I believed that he deserved it for being an evil person. No, he may not have murdered anyone (that I know of), but to me, you need a pretty damn good reason to disown family, and money is not a good reason. Dad said that carrying around hate eats at people, and he doesn’t want that for me.
My father asked me to let go of the hate. Now, I’ve been working on letting go for some time now (see this post). I’ve gotten better at letting go. I let go of the friend who obviously didn’t want to be my friend anymore. I’ve been slowly letting go of the clutter around my house, donating things every week (ish). But I still hate my uncle.
Today, the person who bullied my sister every day when they were in high school died. He’d been sick for sometime, and my community was rallying around him. You see, he was a cop. Cops are supposed to be heroes. But I only see him as the person who called my sister “Dog Face” every time she went to her locker (his was conveniently right next to hers). My sister was attacked by a dog when she was three years old, and has scars all over her face. [I carry guilt about this because I, five at the time, was with her, and supposed to protect her].
I am not sorry about his death. I hate him. I cannot see him as a hero. I don’t care who he helped, or who he saved. He was a bully, and will always be a bully to me.
I know that my dad is right. I know that I need to let go of the hate. And, honestly, I can count on a few fingers the people whom I truly hate. I tend to be a very forgiving person for the most part. I know that people make mistakes, that people change, and that everyone deserves a second chance. But I have a very difficult time forgiving people who have wronged my family. And I don’t know how to let that go.
If any of you have any advice on how I can work through the hate and forget, possibly even forgive, I’m open to suggestions.