How to Forgive Someone Who Isn't Sorry

WOW. I'm also 59 years old. been married for 43. My husband and I are very different. I've always been somewhat of a fitness enthusiast. He, not so much. For more than three decades I begged him to change, come to the gym with me, Etc. There were a lot of things he couldn't do with our children because of his physical condition. 3 years ago he suffered a massive heart attack and some neurological issues. He now has CHF. The consistent corrective action offered by doctors was exercise exercise exercise. For a while 2 years ago I actually got him to the gym for a few months on the exercise bike everyday and he improved significantly, his cardiologist was thrilled.

I asked about CO-Q10 as ubiquinol and we added that to his regimen, as well as doing a ton of research myself and fine-tuning his diet accordingly. He has had dozens of physical therapists at home and outpatient as well as 7 PT rehabs.

Despite it all, he continues to refuse to accept or acknowledge that hard work is his only choice to prolong his life, yet says he wants to do so. He chose to go to a nursing home for PT rehab 6 months ago and has gotten worse instead of better, now he's considered long-term care. I go there twice a day, in the morning before work and in the evening after I get off. I beg on a daily basis for him to work harder try harder but to no avail.

The hardest thing in the world is watching someone that you care about go downhill I absolutely identify with Emily's situation. In my case I also have to advocate for him and constantly battle with nurses CNAs doctors physical therapists Etc.

He says that he will try harder if he comes home, but this has been repeated several times so I desperately want to believe him but I know deep down that it won't happen. I have found that a few things help my mood.

Number one, I draw enjoyment from my part time job. My presence is valued and I appreciate that. It might sound superfluous, but I make a point to consciously recognize compliments and pleasantries extended by my coworkers everyday. I also use chewable theanine from Natural Factors, 100 mg before I head in to visit him twice daily.AND; I got a library card. Remember those? Most larger metropolitan areas have pretty nice libraries, and the whole environment is quiet and relaxing while simultaneously interesting people watching. The luxury of turning off your cell phone and sitting in a chair in a quiet place and reading a book and turning the pages even for an hour is great.

This past week I also started working on getting a visiting caregiver to go to the nursing home three mornings a week for a few hours in my place. Sadly, the hourly expense is almost twice what I make at the job, but it will be worth it just to reduce the stress by a few hours a week. So I feel like spending less time definitely makes me feel less resentful.

I hope any of these suggestions help, and thank you for video I really needed to hear that this morning. DJ

I have also used dr. Ben's adrenal refresh formula. It seems to be a little stronger so I generally save it for events I know are going to be stressful, his doctor appointments and stuff like that. Thanks

Hi Emily -

I’m so pleased I found your story. It has elements of a story I know all too well, and have spent years trying to understand in hopes of closing old wounds. You may find my story interesting. Maybe even helpful.

After long smoldering resentment and eventual estrangement from my once adoring daughter, I found part of the answer by considering not only myself and my daughter, but my parents, grandparents and my wife’s family. It explained quite a lot.

When I was a young man of 17, had finished high school and the following Summer had come and gone, my Father asked “So, Rick, what will you do now?” He explained he was a bit surprised when his Father asked the same quest of him years before, then he made his plans to leave the family farm, and seek work in Connecticut. ‘There is the world! Take it!’

Attitudes toward men, women, children, religion, and social class were heavily influenced by Victorian era standards in Dad’s youth. Men and women’s roles, were dictated by social convention, and they were rigid. “Everyone” knew what was expected of them. Those who fell afoul of accepted norms brought shame on the family, were ostracized, and mended their ways or were banned.

Men supported their families; women raised the children. Children performed assigned tasks, were generally expected to be seen, but not heard, and were referred to their catechisms to answer questions of ‘place’, morality, and thought. At the time of my youth, questions of “right” and “wrong” were easily defined - - every thought word and deed either pleased God, or displeased God. Any ‘good’ act, was only what was expected, any ‘bad’ act (evil creatures that we are) would be forgiven, if acknowledged, confessed, and repented. Children were fed, housed, clothed and generally ignored by their fathers, unless they ‘got in trouble’, in which case they were disciplined. Kindness, warmth, was in short supply, but always understood to be present, and unreservedly displayed at Christmas.

Dad was an exceptionally bright and inventive man. He lived on a prosperous dairy farm and his grandfather was a pillar in the small rural Maine farming community. After High School, he enrolled in the University of Maine, but after his first year two tragedies struck - - - First the hoof-and-mouth disease struck the dairy herd, which had to be destroyed and buried - - - no insurance in those days. Loss of the herd was followed by the Great Depression. Dad left school, and went to work on A WPA project, cutting fire-roads through the woods of Maine. He was paid enough for soap and tooth-paste.
The job covered his meals and logging-camp ‘lodging’. The balance of his pay was sent directly back to the farm to keep it afloat.

And so, when Dad, in a rare display of sharing feelings said one day, ‘it may not look like a lot to you, and I can understand that, but for a poor kid from Maine, I have built a house, fed and clothed you and your seven brothers and sisters, and that looks pretty good to me.’ In that moment I saw my Dad for the first time, and was proud of him, and ashamed I had ever felt differently.

As a child from a family of 8 it was understood that if I wanted much beyond food, shelter, clothing, an annual trip 300 miles north to my Grandmother’s farm, maybe a dollar to spend at Old Orchard Beach along the way - - I would work for it. I began at 4, delivering daily newspapers to three closest neighbors, a spin-off from my big brother’s larger newspaper route. My 25 cents profit was split, .10 church, .10 Savings, .05 for my very own. I worked every day from then, until I joined the Navy, in 1964.

And so I learned about ‘family’, and ‘need’ and ‘giving’ and much more. I have learned that norms and expectations change with time, and it is sometimes worthwhile to consider what time and circumstance has done to change attitudes. My Father gave to his family without further thought. It was necessary. When I was still struggling to make $425/month mortgage payments, I managed to send my Mother an occasional $40 0r $50 (which she never asked for or expected, but always appreciated).

I have come to believe that giving freely, without expectation of any return (including thanks) is its’ own reward and, once given, should never be thought of again. I supported my parents in a small way, I don’t believe my siblings did - - - their loss.

My children’s resentment for lack of tenderness, care, time, consideration - - - those things they lavish upon their own children? I can learn from them, and realize they are probably doing a better job providing ‘happiness’ to their families than I did, as I spent most of my working life getting money, and leaving their care to their mother.

As objectively as I can, I have tried to put aside guilt, and feelings of self-serving exoneration to reach a conclusions that allows me to sleep soundly. It is this; We all live with imperfect knowledge of each other, and are often surprised by the goodness we discover accidently. Continue to hunt for that goodness, and believe those we love try to do ‘good’, but you can’t expect them to give you what they were never given - -

In my book "Rise and Shine: Reclaiming Our Rightful Place" I mentioned a sentence that was a life-saver for me many years ago..."How Can I fault myself for something I did while I was learning!" Each of us is on the planet because we're learning. So I chose to reclaim the energy I had expended counter-productively by judging myself for a choice I made while I was learning and extended the compassion to myself, as I would want to have it extended to me. By the same token, am I willing to extend the same non-judgment to others who are also learning ...'How can I judge you for something you did while you were learning!" Let's also keep in mind that, if my lesson to heal in this chapter of my one ongoing lifetime, is to learn forgiveness, would I not draw "role-players" into my life who would set-up the scenario by which I have the opportunity to learn forgiveness? Extending forgiveness doesn't let the other person "off the hook;" they are still responsible for their actions, without my being their judge, jury, and executioner. Forgiveness frees-up the resistant energy I had been carrying, possibly creating a toxic experience of dis-ease in my body, so that wellness and peace of mind are my momently experience! If I choose to not let go the resentment, I get to draw another opportunity to forgive at another time...with different role players. Why not take advantage of THIS opportunity right now...give YOURSELF the healing now and give your parents a bouquet of flowers in gratitude for what you've learned! Namaste'.