When forgiveness comes (unexpectedly) calling

By Alexus Means Rhone (she/her) | shades Contributor Writer

During my formative years, he was problematic.

In August 1995 – when I was in my mid ’20s – I reminded him of some of my most traumatic memories.

He laughed.

Then the gloves came off.

I cussed him out for two and one-half hours. Interestingly, he didn’t hang up the phone. He sat there.

Once that call ended, he refused to have anything else to do with me. Suddenly, he became the victim.

I was confused. Men as victims in a patriarchal society? It was like claiming that Black people are racist. It didn’t add up.

Over the years, I tried to reconcile, but he literally shut all doors to reconnecting.

Then he died.

Years later, one Sunday in June, I’m reading “Rising Strong” by Brené Brown. She referenced how unforgiveness is not about a lack of love, but about being hurt over how a story ended. Or something like that.

I remember reading it and thinking that finally I am hearing something about unforgiveness that doesn’t sound religious, goofy and/or impractical. Brown’s frame made sense to me.

Immediately, I thought of my dad, which was odd because I hadn’t thought of him in years.

But suddenly, I realize that this was God‘s way of saying, “It’s time to deal.”

So I closed the book and went for a walk. I cried as I recalled my dad‘s story.

I have this thing where I forgive everyone for what they do in their ’20s. And that had to include my dad.

Everything problematic that he did, the most traumatic parts of my childhood memories, all happened when he was in his ’20s. So I “wrote” him a new ending where he understood that his present choices had a future. In the rewrite, he cared about how his story ended.

And then I prayed. I told him that all was well and that I forgave him.

As I was returning to my car, I passed a grocery store. People were streaming out of it holding balloons. I didn’t know that it was a holiday.

I slowed down my pace to read the writing on one of the balloons. It read, “Happy Father’s Day!”

I looked up at the sky, and said, “Really?” Then I laughed, confident and grateful that God is precise.

Happy Father’s Day, Pop! All is well.

---

Alexus Rhone (she/her/hers, affectionately known as “Lex”) is a writer, producer and artistic theologian who explores the power of truth when ‘dressed’ in story. Founder of Truth Meet Story, LLC, expanding empathy one story at a time, Lex tells stories about the sweetness of Black girls and the compassion of Black women on diverse platforms – page, stage, screen, web, radio and podcasts.