Friday, March 6, 2015

Opa (Part two)


“I’m so angry. I’m angry at God for doing this to her. I’m angry at myself for not being able to do more. I’m angry at the world for not understanding. And I’m sick of everyone around me saying stupid, meaningless clichés, when they don’t know what it feels like to be me. 

 If there’s a hell, she’s going through it, and I am cursed to witness her suffering.”- From the novel, “Secret World- The beginning”

 

When I found out that he was a free man, I was so angry. My opa was recovering physically, but he was never the same. Over the course of the next 11 years, I saw whatever was left of my him, slip away. He was no longer the vibrant and happy man that he once was. He was confused…and the more time went on, the more confused he became. It was like he was trapped in his own body. To even formulate a sentence took so much work for him and he became more and more dependent on the care of others. I wanted to be there for him more, but I couldn’t, because I was a child, living in America and he lived in Germany.

I was angry at myself, that I couldn’t do more and help take care of him. Every time I would go to see him, he was less and less of the man I once knew and more of a hollow, living shell. I was angry at God for allowing this to happen and allowing the man that beat his head in, to walk free. I felt like this was unjust. I was angry that I had to spend the next 11 years of my life, watching my opa slowly die. And when he finally passed away, I didn’t have the money to say one last goodbye and to this day I still haven’t said it.

I remember when I found out that he died, I held it together, until I got in the shower. When I finally felt the water running over me, I collapsed in the bathtub and started crying hysterically. I felt so hollow inside. It was almost like, when he died, he took a little piece of me with him.

 The last thing he ever said to me was “Ich liebe dich.” This translates to, “I love you.” When he said that to me, he was crying. It took him several minutes just to be able to say that and it shatters me, because now that I look back, I wonder if he somehow knew, in that brief moment, that I would never see him again.

I admit, that for a long time, I had so much hate in my heart to the man that did that to him. I wanted so badly to do to him what he did to my opa. But now I have grown up, I have realized more and more that broken people, do broken things.

If this man that I am speaking of, ever reads this blog, I want you to know this… I forgive you. I hope you find peace and joy in your life. If somehow, our paths ever cross, I will give you a hug. Because even though you took away from me and my family, I will still give back to you.
I love you opa.

4 comments:

  1. "I have realized more and more that broken people, do broken things"

    This realization is the ground upon which any seed of forgiveness can grow. Many people take hatred to their grave; it is impressive anytime anyone accepts this lesson.

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    1. I have learned from personal experience, the poison that hatred is. I used to be a very hateful person, until I saw the monster I had become and decided to replace this darkness with light.

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    2. I'm always moved by personal stories of repentance. It reminds me that humanity exists in the world and that there are people everywhere, from all races and backgrounds, choosing the path of Salvation over the path of Hell.

      My sister keeps good company!

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