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In many respects, we are unable to see our parents as human. We tend to carry “non-human” illusions about them.
Their physical presence often distracts us. And the effects or consequences of making judgments seem too threatening.
Following the death of my 80+ old father several years ago, it extricated me from the distraction, effects, or consequence of his existence.
His death exposed something in my mind about Dad. Finally I was able to see and understand him more clearly.
That he is separate.
That he suffered.
That he is human.
As I got to know more about Dad’s story, my view of him was inevitably altered.
How could I act out my rage or resentment on him if only I knew how much he suffered the same rage or resentment from his own father?
How his actions towards me when I was growing up as a boy stemmed from his own wounds and weaknesses.
It could had been different for me if I didn’t blindly react to him and replicate his own hurts in my own life.
To learn my Dad’s history then made me see him as a person ... unmasking his separateness and humanness.
In the crush of his death, I got healed in the deep. And became kinder to my self and toward the living.