I believe in the power of absolution. Only, however, if it is genuine. When I was seven years old, my mother died of a drug overdose. When I get upset and miss my mother some people wonder how I can possibly be sad rather than angry. It is hard for me to deal with her choosing the drugs over her kids, but the forgiveness comes easily. When dealing with my own family, I know I will always love them regardless of the harm they cause. However, earlier in life, it was easier to place the blame on people who weren’t so easy to forgive.
I remember the story of how my mother was found. After a relapse of drug use she passed out for a nap and her “friends” tried to wake her up later. Unfortunately, nothing would work. There were reports that her friends took her and laid her in the snow to make her alert. This all happened on Delaware Street; located in a rough part of town with run down houses and high crime activity. The only good attribute of the neighborhood is a main hospital for our city, St. Vincent Medical Center. The hospital stands across one city block from Delaware Street. I struggled for years wondering how these people could be so heartless as to not call somebody for help. The help was so close. They were selfish and only watching out for themselves. The only thing that mattered to me is that the hospital was right down the street and somebody could have done something. Realistically, there was no hope; her life was over. I only reminisce on this fact because, at that point, I needed somebody to blame, besides my mom.
This is a life lesson. These people didn’t know what they were doing. They may have been selfish, but their choices that day, along with my mother’s, have affected my life forever. I genuinely have a love for the people who surrounded my mother in her times of dependency, and I wish they could find peace and help for a better life. Spending my time on Earth blaming them for my mother’s death will not bring her back. They deserve the opportunity to know how they have affected my life. They should know how my family and I suffered after that great loss. They should know that they weren’t my mother’s true friends because they allowed her to follow their example. But more importantly, they should know that I forgive them for something that really wasn’t their fault. They should know that, because of them, I will never touch a drug and I live to pass this story on to influence the choices of my peers. My kindness could save them from making any further harmful choices regarding themselves or others. Absolving these lost people can bring their spirit to life again. This, I believe.
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