without missing a beat, sarah has already asked me to post about something. this something is probably a thing that i’ve struggled with the most in my life. this something is forgiveness.

i’m not sure what to write about because this concept is still something i’m working on. so i’ll just write what’s on my mind

where to start…

though my sister and i are more than a few years apart, i’ve always been close to her. of course, this doesn’t mean we didn’t fight growing up. we’d scream at each other, throw markers, scar each other physically. the funny thing about it was within a few hours after the fight, we’d watch tv together as if nothing happened. we’d never say sorry. we’d just never mention what we fought about we just moved on.

that was easy forgiveness

forgiveness is not forgetting (which is what i once believed). ask a beaten wife to forget the actions of her drunken husband. ask an abused child to forget his molester.

forgiveness is not forgetting. it’s moving on.

i guess the hardest time for me to forgive comes in two times and my attitude toward one is probably directly related to the other. those two times come in regards to my mom and to my past relationships.

i was latchkey’s kid. i still am i suppose. while my grade school mates went home to their afternoon snacks and clean houses, my sister and i came home to each other. my mom believes the way to show love to us is to always be financially stable. happiness is directly related to how much money is saved in the bank. it’s a mantra that i fight with every day.

i never knew we were rich… (i’d feel guilty for every penny i asked for) till the day i went to la sierra, and my mom paid for my full tuition without batting an eye.

when i was in eighth grade, my sister graduated high school and went to puc. after school, i’d ride my bike home to an empty house. i specifically remember my aunt once remarking to me that it must be nice to come home and have no supervision. at the time, i suppose it was. but what i didn’t know then that i know now is that it started building this bitterness toward my mom that still exists today.

i love my dad

i eat pizza with him every friday. try to at least. the chinese worker at pizza hut knows him well enough to exchange pizza for money without saying a word. looking back, i realize my dad would call me up at least once a week to eat dinner. my dad works just as much as my mom.

after 8th grade, i didn’t know what a home-cooked meal was. i eat out constantly. and people ask me how i do it. what else is there to eat?

i have a hard time forgiving my mom. forgiving her for anything is near impossible because she has this ability to make me feel like it’s my fault anyway. without fail, my mom has a nose to know when i have an important paper due or a final project. and with precision, she snipes any self-esteem i have left.

i’m a failure

i think this is where past failed relationships are related. forgiveness isn’t forgetting; it’s saying it doesn’t matter.

why is it hard for me to forgive people in the past? because:
1. maybe i’m the one at fault
2. the forgiveness is required in friendships that don’t exist anymore.
i think harboring resentment/bitterness toward someone is sometimes the last emotion that i can hold to that person. and letting go of that means i’m letting go of what i have left of that person.

hate is not the opposite of love, it’s indifference. what is the opposite of hate then?

i think, a lot of times, i don’t/can’t forgive my mom because i (don’t want to)/can’t say it doesn’t matter anymore. my childhood mattered. my relationship with you mattered. i still do care. i need something to hold on to.

i’m sure there are great flaws in my belief. i used to never say i was sorry till a past relationship. now i feel i can say it without much thought.

forgiveness is a difficult difficult thing; something i need to work on; struggle with; can’t get over.

i’m going to be late to church

this post is not going to be about God even though i said it would be. i got a guestbook hit from sarah and she was somewhat disgruntled about there being no reference to the origin of my website name.

on a side note, i guess if you (the reader) want me (the writer) to write about my opinion or knowledge about anything in particular, any topic, ask me to on my guestbook. this is an open offer, though i doubt anyone but possibly sarah or joanne would take me up on it.

once upon a midnight dreary, while sarah crafted, weak and weary…

i don’t quite remember how the story goes, but it starts with joey going somewhere. and ends with sarah making him a sign for his return. halfway through the first couple of letters she realized she couldn’t fit all the letters in to finish “welcome” in one line. very un-sarah-like she decides to not start again and just finish it as is.

joey proudly displayed this sign above his bookcase of his living room.

perched, and sat, and nothing more.

and for every bible study afterwards, when my mind wandered, i pondered the strange message. i promised to someday make a website using the message and that is the origin of the website name.

i’d write more.. but it’s… 2:43 in the morning.. i’m butt tired.