family

Threshold

12:00:00 AM

Over a year ago, I wrote about my mother's suicide attempt on my eighth birthday. I realized that sharing something like that to the world elicits a variety of reactions from different people. Some friends who found out for the first time through the post called / messaged / emailed me to tell me that what I wrote made them sad, and that they were sorry I had to go through that.

There were a couple of people who took a different route. They were enraged by what my mother did, and one even went to the extreme and said that my mother 'sucked.' I told her that I really wanted to punch her in the face when she said it, so she should be grateful I had good restraint. But for the record, I do understand why they reacted the way they did - no child should ever witness something like that, to be hurt the way I was. So I let it go.

Moving on, I have one friend who actually asked how I'm able to forgive my mother after that. Before that day, I never really thought about why. I mean, I love my mother very much, and I owe her everything, so it was natural for me to forgive her. But I know a number of people who love their parents as much as I do mine, but they have a more difficult time forgiving them when they make mistakes.

She was, is, and always will be, the most beautiful woman in the world for me.
That's when I realized that another reason I easily forgave my mother is because I knew she was human. A lot of kids have this misguided belief that their parents are, or are supposed to be, perfect. Newsflash: They're NOT. They make mistakes every now and then, and sometimes, the children pay the price. Be that as it may, a wrong decision does not make one a bad person.

My mother was young at the time, and she had to deal with more than she could take. She was an incredible person who had a momentary lapse of good judgment. She was a beautiful woman through and through in spite of, and in some ways because of, what happened.

And for what it's worth, her moment of weakness became my moment of strength. My childhood ended then, but it was okay because I learned to be strong not just for myself, but for her as well.  I would not be the same person if that didn't happen, so I think it was necessary even if it was painful and traumatic.

Everyone has his or her threshold, a limit to how much beating he or she can take from life. We can't ever take it against people, including our own parents, if they can't handle as much as we can, as well as we can. All we could do is be there for them, to take them by the hand until they're ready to walk on their own again.

isawisay

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