Collecting pieces

Going through counseling was like wandering around looking at things I've pushed aside , naming them and contemplating what to do with them or how to move on.  I became aware of my detachment from my emotions, as well as my "good enough attitude" (accepting things that were cheap, or low quality because they were "good enough" , never considering myself worth more expensive items).   I became aware of anxiety attacks I had and was still  having , mostly regarding our children's safety.  I would have snippets of flash backs in my dreams or memories would crop up during the day.  I identified at least three triggers between Mark and I that brought back unpleasant memories or feelings.  The more I learned about myself and how I compared to many others who climbed over the same steps the more I realized how crippled I was in life. I remembered the bird with the broken wing and with many tears I realized that the bird was me.  I was the one locked in the cage , I was resisting help God was trying to give me. Originally, I had been thinking of my family (my children and husband) when seeking out counseling.  I thought my family needed the best of me and I didn't want to burden them with things I had not resolved in the past (however they would come out).  After starting counseling, however, I realized that it was more about me , and that was ok.

During the earlier portions of my counseling experience Mark and I discussed having another meeting with my mom and dad.  I desperately needed some boundaries for myself and my family. I had never really considered boundaries before and only during counseling did I realize how badly they had been assaulted. We decided to talk about our future relationship with my dad and how it had changed since all this information had come to light. We decided not to visit my parents house any longer , and my dad was not welcome in our house. We left the future open to reconciliation provided that my dad willingly attended counseling and allowed God to change him, some trust would trickle in after that , maybe. My counselor said most perpetrators had one of two reactions to  a confrontation, they would be willing to do anything to make things better or they would cast around blame and not act responsible for what they did. The meeting took place one evening.  I still remember the shocked, crushed look on my dad's face when we told him what we had discussed. I remember really, really wanting to hear "I'll do anything to make things right" (and actually meaning it) , but that is not what I heard. He started to make excuses and demanded to know why we could not continue our relationship the same way since I had already forgiven him.  I still have tears of disappointment as I write this.  It has been almost 4 years now since I've had a face to face conversation with my dad (I remember one time - lasting about 30 seconds).

Following the meeting  I wrestled with the concept of forgiveness.  I know I had forgiven him because  God had taken away my anger and bitterness. Did forgiving him really mean a "clean slate"? How on earth could we continue a safe relationship if he refused to see why he needed to change his behavior?  I remembered that when God forgave people , they still faced consequences of past mistakes but they had an opportunity to change .  What happens when forgiveness is one sided? I forgave my dad before he even regretted what he did  ( or at least said so verbally).  What if God forgave a person, but that person didn't see the need to change?  It took awhile to realize that forgiveness , reconciliation and trust where three different things and sometimes happened at different times. Over the months that stretched into years, I felt conflicted, and wondered if I was wrong.  Maybe I should contact my dad and start talking with him again. Would I be setting myself up for more hurt by crossing my own boundary I had set?  My husband all but forbid me from taking that step, I think he was seriously considering forbidding me :).  I didn't feel peace about talking to my dad, only guilt (it took awhile to name the feeling as guilt).  When some of my siblings expressed hurt and anger with their fragmented relationship with my dad I knew I had made the right decision by remaining silent.