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I would like to thank my cousin Sue Owner for her permission to share her remarkable story — a story well worth telling on the amazing power of forgiveness.
“Fools,” said I, “You do not know – Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you.Take my arms that I might reach you.”
But my words like silent raindrops fell. And echoed in the wells of silence. ~ Paul Simon
My family tree is populated with those who knew the sound of silence.
- Grandpa Pat didn’t speak to his brother Mike for the last half of his life.
- Aunt Rose didn’t speak to Aunt Margaret for 50 years.
I remember as a boy never daring to raise the name of Uncle Mike in the presence of Grandma Maggie. If you did she would dismiss the conversation with an angry scowl.
This shunning in my immigrant family had much to do with:
- the inebriated indiscretions of family members
- that fed into the ancient Irish tradition of shunning
A practice that casts a shadow over so many families.
How many black sheep have been left to wander alone?
On my mother’s side I watched this insidious practice of righteous silence tear holes into the hearts of blood relatives.
My mother was a McCoy from a Scots Irish clan that was well known for grudge keeping — a characteristic made infamous by the Hatfield-McCoy feud which became a national story.
I saw firsthand a McCoy bloodletting in my own mother’s final days.
We all knew Mom had only weeks to live. She had one final wish, and that was to see her youngest sister, a person she virtually raised as a child.
But her sister insistently refused to see my mother, apparently still harboring a resentment from some ancient childhood hurt.
Mother died without ever saying goodbye to her.
A splendid opportunity for a generational healing was missed.
I heard it said when you bind yourself to a resentment you are bound to a link more powerful than steel.
Forgiveness is the only way to dissolve that link and become free.
In my generation, my cousin Sue Owner has been a grudge slayer. She was the only child of my aunt, the one who refused to visit my mother. Sue demonstrated more than any other person I’ve encountered the the power of forgiveness.
It was through her example the longstanding family legacy of nursing resentments was finally stopped.
Sue came into the world unwanted.
- abandoned as a toddler by her mother
- shuttled from one home to the next, without brothers or sisters for support
At about age six she finally found a stable home with her Aunt Margaret and ceased living like a child refugee. She adopted my brothers and sisters as her brothers and sisters and we adopted her.
Sue and I are the same age and have always been close.
What she accomplished is something I find quite remarkable.
She set aside resentments she might have had for how she was treated coming into this world so as to create a life centered on providing nurture and care for the most needy.
In teaching herself to give — she learned how to receive.
- She earned a doctorate in Education
- She specialized in teaching the profoundly handicapped
- She was a master at sign language
- She became a superb elementary school principal
- She and her husband Chris have had a wonderful 50-plus year marriage and raised four wonderful children
- They are loving grandparents to their grandchildren
While she was in Washington DC working on her PhD at Gallaudet University we had many opportunities to talk about our past growing up.
We shared stories of the issues we confronted. I often felt she was miles ahead of me in making peace with her life.
Where I stewed in remorse over a less than perfect childhood, she wasted not a nano-second ruminating about things over which she had no control.
To this day I have no idea where she found her bottomless capacity for empathy.
She steadfastly refused to shun her mother and when they were together she was always emotionally generous. Indeed, in later years she came to care for her own mother.
I never thought such a thing possible.
Why Sue chose a path so different from others I cannot say, but she did.
- She was born with mature eyes.
- She was not wedded to her pain.
- She focused on happiness not sadness.
- She understood we are all broken.
She taught much to the family of my generation.
We owe Sue a profound debt of gratitude.
Just a thought…
Pat