Before You Hang Out with Family...Letting Go of Resentment

In writing a guest column last week for the Webster Kirkwood Times, I called my Dad for a refresher on an old family story.  The one where my dad and his brother had a 7 year feud in which they literally did not talk during that time.  My grandma spent holidays divided.  My sister and I didn't get a chance to know our young cousins.  After these years passed, my dad showed up at my uncle's work with a bottle of vodka, shaking a 3 foot link of metal chain, "Ebenezer. Ebenezer.  Marley is here to see you," my dad called from the reception desk.  According to him, they sat down and drank that bottle of vodka together and just chatted.  Reconciliation.

During our phone call, I asked my dad - "Did either of you apologize?  Did anyone say, 'I forgive you?'"

"That wasn't necessary," was his reply.  And that might have been true - I don't actually know all the details behind that feud, but dad's side of the family is known to have tempers and pride.  And I do agree that sometimes apologies aren't necessary if both parties feel they've let pride get in the way of an overall good relationship.

But something I've been thinking a lot about in my own life and as my clients talk to me about the sometimes fraught feelings of all the traditions around this time of year, is anger, resentment and forgiveness.  What is the relationship between these things?  How do they effect us?  How could we let go of long term anger and resentment if we wanted to?  Or should we?

I'm going to walk through a made up scenario to illustrate:

My brother takes the last cookie from the plate of cookies.  I'm thinking it would've been nice for him to ask me if I want the last cookie.  I don't say anything, but I make a mental note.

He does it again and it irks me further.  I say, 'Hey, dude.  Please ask me before you take the last cookie - maybe I'd like it sometimes.'  He says, 'Ok, good point.'

He takes the last cookie again.  Now, I'm really resentful - you did something that hurt me and I gave you the benefit of the doubt.  You did it again, and I assertively spoke up and asked you not to.  You agreed.  You did it again.  I am left to think:  A)  You don't give a shit if you hurt me  B) You do give a shit, but you just forgot about my request.

I do a few other things - I start trying to protect myself.  Maybe I don't make cookies anymore.  Or maybe I decide I don't like cookies in the first place.  Maybe I throw the plate of cookies at the wall and smash it to try to scare him out of ever taking the last cookie again.  I develop defenses for myself and I develop a story about my brother - that he is selfish or that he is clueless or that he is really, really hungry and can't help himself (poor thing).  Maybe I read into the story and blame myself ...'he takes the last cookie, because I leave my hair dryer out in the bathroom and it gets in his way.  Maybe I am a little to blame.'

But, his actions, my story and my defenses all create long term resentment.

And despite this silly example, in our real relationships, these developments cause us immense pain.  They sound like this:  "No one ever protected me."  "My mother chose her new husband over me."  "My wife doesn't appreciate all the sacrifices I make for her and the kids."  "My mom uses me as a workhorse, but doesn't care about me for anything else."  "My husband ignored me for years and now that he's retired, he suddenly wants all this attention."  People come into my office and say, "How am I supposed to let go and forgive the pain of this?  I believe the other person will never fully acknowledge all the pain they caused me and even if they did, I don't think I could forgive it."

Here's what I have seen - in a couple of cases.  A couple only.  The other person is confronted and fully and sincerely acknowledges how they've hurt the first person.  In those cases, I witnessed genuine forgiveness and the relationship moving forward in a new way.  But, mostly, I've seen either half-hearted apologies and then a return to the unfair dynamic with more resentment building up or a defensive, denying reaction, which further hurts the first person.

So this resentment is a terrible burden and we need real ways to help alleviate it.

I always say, I try not to be a hypocrite, so I'm just going to share some real and sometimes weird strategies that I have actually used and I hope they will be helpful.

First, you have to work on your thoughts.  Our thoughts are made up.  We can change them.  Thoughts that are true and help in letting go of resentment, at least in my experience:

1)  No one ever promised fair.  Not even God.  Fair is not part of the deal that we are entitled to.  We can CHOOSE to be around people and cultivate close relationships with people who are fair and treat us fairly or we can stay in relationships that are imbalanced and unfair.   Choose fair.  You'll be happier.

2)  Some atrocious injustices can happen in relationships - people are abused emotionally, physically, sexually.  People are deeply neglected.  People are lied to.  We cannot rely on any justice we can see and know unless there is criminal prosecution (which is rare).  Often, we long for justice (this is also related to number 1).  Justice may happen, but the path to justice is long.   Stop getting stuck in 'making' a just situation happen.

3)  Continuing to let resentment about another person cause us pain, weigh us down and burden the happiness we would otherwise find in life allows the person who hurt us to continue hurting us.  Letting it go, even without overt justice, is its own justice.

4)  Letting go of resentment and forgiving does not mean reconciliation.  You don't have to have a 'good' relationship with your brother who takes all the last cookies.  You don't have to have any relationship with him necessarily.  But you can still forgive him.  One way I think of it, is that forgiveness is between me and God.  God and I can work it out on the forgiveness end of things and God can work out whatever happens on the other end for the cookie-taking brother.

So those are thoughts changes...now for strategies.

Strategy 1:  Get a life.  Just get a life - be fulfilled by your life.  Spend your time with work and famiy and friends and hobbies that bring you some kind of satisfaction and interest.  You will ruminate less on the hurts of the past.  The past won't seem as weighty.  I remember, after my parents got divorced and I marinated in the hurt for a few years, I said to myself, 'I'm tired of my parents divorce being the last big thing to happen to me.'  I applied for grad school within 18 months and moved halfway across the country.  I don't think we can ever shut the door on the past - it's not a good idea, because it influences us - but getting a life and creating opportunity for yourself puts things in perspective.

Strategy 2:  Fire Your God, if you have to.   A lot of long term resentments remain with us and poignant because we think God should have prevented our brother from taking the last cookie.  My clients have amazing wisdom and great stories, so here is what one of them shared about this.  This client had a sad event happen in her life this year and was feeling angry at God.  She told an older friend about this feeling.  She said, "I am just so mad at God for this happening."  The friend said, "Sounds like you need to fire your God.  See, my God doesn't make bad stuff happen to people.  My God just helps after a bad thing happens."  My client loved this - she said, "So I fired my God and I talk to Joe's God instead."

Strategy 3:  Draw a picture of your anger, rage, or resentment.  If it were a monster, an animal, an environment, what would it look like?  What would it say?  What would it sound like?  Is there anything about it that helps you?  Is there anything about it that you like?  This will help you not be afraid of your anger and resentment.  Human beings have it, and it feels bad inside, in part because we don't let ourselves get to know it.  It won't have more power if you get to know it, it may quiet down.

Strategy 4:  Understand your gifts and attributes.  Write them down and explore them.  Many of our gifts get out of balance.  Maybe we are too patient.  Maybe we are too responsible.  Maybe we are very competent.  Maybe we see the other person's point of view more easily than we see our own.  These are, in balance, nice character traits.  But out of balance, they may keep us in relationship with cookie takers.  Maybe we are 'nice' and don't like to speak directly about small conflicts.   Explore what you might do to bring your attributes into balance.  If you are very responsible, perhaps it is letting go of control and letting others be responsible for things, even if they fail.  If you always try to say things, in a 'nice' way, maybe it is learning some assertive communication skills.

Strategy 5:  Visualize unburdening yourself.  Where does your rage sit?  Where does your resentment reside in your body.  Visualize letting it go, giving it away, burning it - whatever.

I can almost guarantee that no one thing you do is going to release anger and resentment immediately or even create an immediate sense of forgiveness.  These are practices.  In my opinion, most progress is just one little action, thought or change, day after day.  With enough days of practice, something transforms.  It is imperceptible, and then one day you do perceive it.

Finally, I want to make a distinction that my friend, a Methodist minister, made for me - forgiveness and reconciliation are not the same.  Some cookie taking is abusive and reconciliation is not a goal.  This is just a truth in some families.  I also think about the many stories of sexual assault we've heard this year - anyone who has been assaulted doesn't really need to 'forgive' and certainly not reconcile.  But whatever helps lift the burdens on a person who has been the victim of a crime,  I support.  What language that person uses that helps them live more freely, I support that too.

But mostly, as we get ready to spend time with people we love and who also drive us crazy sometimes, it is better to let go of resentment.  To forgive.  To reclaim the good energy that connects us to ourselves and one another and release the yucky energy that builds unnecessary walls both within and without.

I wonder how long my dad pondered extending reconciliation to my uncle.  If it was a whim?  If it was years of germinating?   I wonder if he was afraid that my uncle would reject him and he would be hurt further?  Was my uncle pondering something similar on his end?

The result of their acts of forgiveness extend beyond just them.  I have cousins, whom I know and love.  I've taken an acting class with one cousin.  I've attended the wedding this year of another.  We all send Christmas cards and though we don't get together often, we love seeing one another.

Who know what might result from your letting go, forgiving, or even reconciling.  I think there must be some magic in it.

My Dog's Life

In June this year, I noticed that my dog, Pearl, a big, slobbery, energetic German Shepherd/Boxer mutt seemed to have a small infection under her left eye lid, so I took her in to the vet.  Vet says, 'I think it's a sty...here's are some drops...lets see if we can clear that up.'  So, we used the drops and perhaps it was wishful thinking on my part, but I thought I saw some improvement.  I even took her back for a follow up visit and we decided, 'Yes.  A little better.'  But the vet did say, 'if you don't see it all cleared up in the next month, I want you to go to the veterinary opthomalogist, and she gave me the name and number.

August comes and I actually think her eye looks worse, so we go to the specialist.  My 11 year old daughter is with me and it's about a week before school starts.  Pearl gets a very thorough examination.  And notable silence from the doc.  After about 20 minutes, he sits down and says (in front of my daughter),

'This is not good.  What you have is not an eye problem.  What you have is a skull problem and what is happening is an inoperable tumor which is growing up into her eye on this left side and down into her nasal passage on the left side.  This is not curable and not really treatable.'

 I am aware of my daughter's presence.  I am aware of my hospice background.  I am also aware of the cost of veterinary interventions.  Lots is happening in my head at this moment and I say, "Well, what about radiation?'

He says, 'You could do radiation, but it could cause more discomfort without enough added benefit.'

'So doc,' I say, 'I worked in hospice for almost 7 years.  I know about extraordinary measures and quality of life.  If we did radiation, how much time do you think?'

'Even with radiation, less than a year.  And I wouldn't recommend radiation.  There are secondary issues.'

My daughter and I left the appointment with the dog.  She'd been stoic the whole time, but I know her.  Even at age 5 playing soccer, she was proud.  She would not cry on the field if she got hurt, but wait until half time and then come over to the sideline with me and her dad and cry very quietly, wipe the tears, and get back on the field.

Once in the car, she sobbed.  'I just don't think we should do extraordinary measures,' she wailed.

Me too.

I want to tell you about me and Pearl.  We had a rough start, in a way.  When we got her from the Humane Society, she was a 9 month old ball of muscle and energy.  She'd been turned in because she was ungovernable or some word like that.  But, she was so affectionate.  I'd told my then husband that I wouldn't get a dog until our kids were both out of diapers, because I was cleaning up too much poop as it was.  So, Pearl came to us when our daughter was just over three years old.

Pearl had to be walked at least twice a day.  She sometimes nipped my butt if I stood in the kitchen doing dishes and she wanted my attention.  She was cute, but frankly, she annoyed me.  I liked the cats better - quiet and non-demanding.  They pooped in a box.  So civilized.  Pearl also loved love and attention, which I was giving out like a maniac to everyone else in my house - being the mom of a 3 year old and 5 year old takes a lot of love, patience, and physical presence.  I kind of thought of the dog as belonging to those people, but not me  - I would walk and run her.  I would feed her.  And they could love and snuggle her.

And this very practical relationship lasted for years.  But, as many animals do, including humans, as she got older, she mellowed.  My life changed.  We moved.  I got divorced.  One cat died.  The kids got older.  We moved again.  Another cat died.  And the way Pearl and I did what we did together changed.  The way I was with Pearl changed.

I think I know Pearl in a different way.  I think I understand her quality of life.  Here are some ways we are alike:  We both love to run.  Few things are as pure as being outside in the fresh air and running.  In fact, we both love outside as much as we love running.  We look around and we smell the air.  Pearl smells everything.  And, we like to play - before we run we play a pouncing game, where we both pounce at one another and tease and chase.  I love her in a different way now.  She is not just one more thing that 'needs.'  I appreciate the ways we are alike.  I also appreciate her lovey-ness in a different way.  I see how much she loves everyone.  When children come to our house, she licks them in the face.  When adults visit, she jumps on them and licks them in the face too, if they let her.  She loves nothing better than when one of the kids lies on the floor with her and lets her be a lap dog.  And when she paws me as I sit on the couch (Pet Me! Pet Me!, she seems to say).  I'll love and pet her and when I say, "Go lie down", she does it.  Which I appreciate, too.

I think this phrase is interesting - extraordinary measures.  In bioethics, one way to define the term is when treatment will not cure or alleviate a disease process or when the benefits of treatment do not outweigh the burden of the treatment. 

So many times, we think we know what is best for someone else.  Often I see this when people talk with me about aging parents and their health decisions.   But, when we love someone, we need to ask ourselves, what makes them, them?  Are their decisions reflecting that?  It may not always be an attractive quality - maybe they are stubborn.  Maybe they are private.  If this is their nature, it might also be their quality of life. 

With the holidays approaching, I've had more folks to my house recently and when they see Pearl, they say, "Oh, poor baby I feel bad for her."  Pearl's tumor has covered almost her entire left eye now.  It's red and uneven and a little ooey-looking.  She looks like a badass, in a way.  She doesn't seem to have any discomfort now that she's gotten used to being blind in one eye. 

I say, "Don't feel sorry for her.  She is happy."  She runs just as much as ever.  She pounces more than ever.  She smells the wind and stays outside on an unseasonably warm day, if she can.  She loves her people just as much as ever. 

With an animal, it's poignant - they can't tell you what quality of life is, so you have to pay attention to them.  What makes an animal happy?  How have they enjoyed their time in life?

I am sad we will not have Pearl longer.  But I also don't really know how long we will have her.  I just want her time left to be full of these things that make Pearl, Pearl.  You know what I mean?

What is it that makes you, you?  What do you love?  What brings you joy? 

Spend your time this way.  And if you're unsure where to start, try smelling the wind.  And play chase with a dog now and again.