The place I called home was not typical and I have spent all my years since leaving there trying to assimilate the emotional damage done , while at the same time trying to put the pieces of myself back into some semblance of a “normal” human being.
It has not been an easy exercise, with much of the old one step forward, two steps back going on. I mostly try to focus on the steps forward and tell myself every day is a chance at a new start.
Distance and time has assisted in my work, and always brings to mind how when someone dies, suddenly all the bad they did during their lifetime disappears, with only the good memories remaining behind. I used to cynically scoff at that, actually.
I used to wonder how a sinner became a saint overnight.
In my jaded youth, I would think to myself that I was more than capable of reminding them of the shitty behaviours, moral ineptitude and sketchy actions of the dearly departed, if they only agreed to granting me 5 minutes of their time.
Now, I find myself in that same group I used to internally scorn, when remembering my family who have all left me behind on this mortal coil. I am not sure if it is the distance of time or aging, but something has softened the edges of the shards of pain that their memories used to cause.
My memories are hazier and softer and are mainly composed of times spent together laughing.
I have to try really hard to catch hold of a bad memory anymore.
Is it my own need to find peace or resolution that has caused this shift within me?
Is it the passage of time or is it a willingness to let go of resentments and grudges and laying blame for all the mistakes I made after leaving?
Maybe it is all those things combined.
All I know today is that I am grateful for the peace and I feel much lighter from letting the weight of bygone resentments disperse as I walk along the rest of my path.