Not forgiving and not forgetting

I've had reason to think about forgiveness recently. Among other reasons, my father's 103-year-old mother died last month, and I had to send a condolence card to my aunt.


The last time I sent a letter to this aunt was probably about two years ago. I'd sent her a letter to try to "make right" some stupid and hurtful stuff that happened when I went out there to visit Mama in 1996 and to AGAIN apologize for not saying anything about my uncle's passing when I sent my aunt a letter about getting engaged to Zirpu in 2002. Which was wrong and I totally needed to apologize for that, but I had just gotten engaged, something I never thought would happen, and not thinking about anything but my own excitement. The letter I sent was contrite and honest and tried to make sense of what happened when I went to visit (visiting my grandmother was great; the two days I had to spend with my aunt and uncle were really awful, as they made me feel as if my visit were a burden to them, by complaining about having to drive me to Mama's or to the suburban train station).


The letter I got back from my aunt was and still is the nastiest communication I have ever received from anyone ever in my life. She and my uncle felt like I didn't thank them enough for allowing me to sleep over and for the rides to the station, because they didn't get a thank you card (I had sent one, but had no idea they didn't receive it, because they never told me). So once again I was not speaking to my aunt (which I know is crazy, because it's not like we had been talking before that). It was hard work to write anything on that card, but I figured that I had to do something because this aunt stands between me and No and anything of sentimental value, like photos or letters, of our father's. Besides, my mother told me to, and the fact that she is still talking to these people 30 years after Daddy died makes her a saint in my book.


I know that I am living a personality trait from that side of the family. My grandmother was like this, my aunt is like this, and I'm like this (Mom says Dad wasn't like that at all). My aunt and my grandmother were furious with each other for things that had happened starting in the 1950s, never talked them out, and never forgave each other. I struggle against that lack of forgiveness every day; I repeat to myself, "People do the best they can with the tools they have at the time." I know that the anger is bad for me and certainly doesn't do anything good for the world, but I just can't let some crap go.


My grandmother was an angry person until she lost her memory a few years ago, and then she was very happy. I have really good role models for forgiving and for generosity: My mother, my brother, and my husband, to start with, but those traits don't come to me naturally. I have to practice generosity, and work at forgiving. The second one is much harder, and what I do more often is pretend to myself that this or that isn't still pissing me off. "Fake it 'til you make it" and all that.


If I have a deep relationship with someone, I forgive him or her of a lot. But I never forget, which has been pointed out to me is a form of not forgiving. I'm working on it, is all I can say.

Please forgive me.