TWO MEN WHO PLAYED PROFOUND ROLES.

Some soul contracts are beautiful.

I was married to my first husband for a little over eleven years. I was blessed to be around him from ages 23-35. We had two wonderful children, and we had a great life. Not a perfect life, not a perfect marriage but a really good one. I didn't even know how good it was until he died in 2013. Largely I was oblivious because I was so self-absorbed in my own life and was too busy living life to judge it in comparison to others' experiences of marriage. Upon his passing, like many, I quickly understood the magnitude of importance this marriage played in my life even more keenly.

I definitely had a soul-contract with my husband, but I've since discovered we also have important soul-contracts with people in our lives who don't necessarily play the biggest starring roles. I knew this by my experiences with seemingly insignificant (and significant) people throughout my childhood, but this lesson was really driven home after the loss of my husband.

Sometimes the most important soul contracts are simply painful.

I always held my father-in-law in very high regard, and appreciated all that he ever did for both our family. Indirectly, I learned through my husband and his mother what made this old man tick. They knew his motivations, they knew what he was really about. They also knew the way he often came across to others was counter to their understanding of him. They had an unending love for this man and could easily explain why. This love transferred to me easily given my alignment with my husband and close relationship with his mother.

I personally had never experienced anything contrary to these loving beliefs - with a few minor exceptions. Any negative interaction was miniscule compared to the loving expressions of his normal way of being around me. However, after the stress of grief I would come to quickly realize the other side of him - the one many people outside of the family saw was very memorable, pungent and pointed. 

The most intense memory I experienced involved me directly on August 1, 2014 just 4 months and 9 days after his son passed away. That evening, about 8:15 PM, all of his anger was directed straight to me. I had made some decisions which were counter to his desires - he was angry and he was using every bit of his energy to let me know he was upset, disappointed and how I needed to make changes. Looking back, I do not blame him for being upset, and I really understand the kind of pressure he was under at the time. After all, I was the widow. However, my compassion for him didn’t negate his behavior towards me. His words were beyond hurtful, selfish, closed-off and manipulative. This was no different than those odd times I had observed his behavior to be in the past on rare occasion - except now it was directed at me.

Whatever I chose my response to be, this was the reality of the situation. 

I was so taken aback by this change in character towards me, that my instinctual reaction was to retreat. I needed time to process what it meant for me to be treated as one of the “others” - someone outside of his loving circle. It was abundantly clear that I was now one of the “others” with whom he vehemently forbade forgiveness. It was highly unlikely I could ever redeem myself in his eyes, and it didn’t really matter how much I did as he asked. My father-in-law had been hurt by my choices, and I knew forgiveness wasn't likely to happen.

At that point I hadn't even considered if forgiveness was even within me.

This interaction was nothing short of traumatic for me.  I promptly called his only remaining son to share what had happened. I had been diligent in keeping up communications with my brother-in-law, and this was clearly a big deal for his father. I felt it was important to let him know how angry his father was, and what he had said to me in front of the children. My brother-in-law was receptive and understanding. He knew what his father was like when he got angry. He also was aware enough about how his father could affect people, and how those other people responded to such a presence. I believe my brother-in-law to be empathetic towards the others who had experienced my father-in-law’s rage likely because had experienced it himself in some form. What child hasn't seen their parent upset? The last thing my brother-in-law stated to me was, “I wouldn’t blame you if you left without telling anyone and never came back.” 

I didn’t know right then what I would do, but I knew I would be doing something different than being treated like garbage.

First, I had to deal with my emotional responses. I went totally inward. I chose to quit talking and communicating with him until I had processed what had happened and what it meant for myself and my children. I spent much time in contemplation and meditation asking myself important and very difficult questions. Adding this to the numerous stresses of becoming a widow at 35, it very quickly became clear I needed to separate myself from all the reminders of what my life with my husband was supposed to be. Our home had become like a physical knife stabbing my heart every time I thought about the future. Every time someone asked me what my plans were, I start with, “Well, we were planning ... ”

Even my response behavior became triggering for me.

I’ve been the child of a widow, a fatherless child since the age of 11. I heard the many, many phrases that come from the mouths of widows’ in an effort to cope with such a life changing experience. My mother's words on repeat were, “Well, ever since John died...,”  As a child when I heard this, I always saw immediate tears and the other party in the conversation would change their energy to cope with the emotional upset that was always oozing from these moments. I saw those comments stop conversations that were seemingly going smoothly, time and time again.

I doggedly did not want to be this person. My loss was mine and I didn't want it to leach out onto others. Yes, I knew my life would be different. Yes, I would have to make my own decisions. Yes, life would go on without him, but I did not want it to be the biggest defining event of my life. I did not want my children to think their life was over. My mother was amazing, and I didn’t fully understand just how amazing she was until I had to make many of the same tough decisions like she had to make when I was young. Now, I understand situations like these are NEVER easy for anyone.

However, from day one of widowhood, I refused to use the loss of him as an excuse for anything. He was far too wonderful for me to have a negative cloud looming over what our relationship meant to me. What this meant unfolded over many years, and continues to do so.

I had no idea where my life would lead; however, this horrifically emotional experience with my father-in-law forced me to make some tough decisions right then. It led me to realize that my personal health, treating one another with respect and love, messages that were sent to my children about coping with the loss of a loved one, were far more important to me than it was to continue wallowing in my own self-pity, on any level. My father-in-law showed me it was time to pick myself up by the bootstraps so to speak, and take care of business - NOW.

Undoubtedly, the call was to get serious about my own healing.

Within six weeks I had made the decision and made the arrangements for us to leave our home and all the people that were there to start out on a new life adventure. I did this not because I didn't love any of the people there. I did this because I needed a change and it was no longer a good environment for myself, my children and my mother. I knew his reaction was ultimately temporary, and I know what he conveyed with his anger was not who he really was. But, because I too was having to heal from this loss - I knew I needed space, and a space in which I could feel safe, heard, loved and where I could grow. With his anger over just one of my decisions it became clear this would never be a space like that again. Being the patriarch, he heavily influenced and lead my entire in-law family, plus those in the community around me. I would forever be the outsider, never truly welcomed again.

This interaction with my father-in-law ignited me into action that would eventually lead me into helping others deal with similar traumas. It was a long road to a place of real healing but, had our reactions to one another been weaker I would not be the person I am today.

Even if he is still angry with me for my decisions, I know without a doubt that my soul-contract with him was not shallow. I know that we have much deeper connection that just that of one father-in-law/daughter-in-law relationship. I've done the work to heal, but maybe I wouldn't have if he didn't play this role so well? As often happens in human relationships - I will likely never know in this lifetime if he also healed, but it is my belief that the part that is really him - the part that agreed to play this role for me, has a true sense of honor and completion. And for that, I am more grateful than I could ever express.