To be honest, I'm someone who is really good about forgiving myself, and others. I find letting go of mistakes to be the most positive thing for myself. But there are a few things that I have yet to forgive myself for, and those are going to be hard to get past.
Most things in our lives we are able to let pass and make up for. But when we loose those we love there is no going back! Of the few regrets I have, the one thing I feel I truly need to forgive myself for is not being more forceful with my father's family when I was searching for him and had enough guts to speak up when I finally did.
My mother and father were never married. My mother married her current boyfriend and didn't know he wasn't my real father. - She way young... No big deal. - But when I turned 18 I knew I wanted to find my real father. I wanted to know my family! I wanted to know where I came from. Well, I found my grandparents - I waited on them every day when I worked for the restaurant. They refused to tell me anything, refused to even let me get close! I wish now that I had put my foot down and demanded they tell me how to get a hold of him.
When I finally found out how he was, he turned out to be someone I waited on at least a few times a week. I wanted so bad to go introduce myself. But every time he came in I lost my nerve! One day after he left one of the other girls there asked "Is that your father?" to which I answered "Yes, how do you know?" At which point she said he had just told her he was my father and he had apparently asked her how my life had been going. I guess he was as nervous to talk to me as I was to him.
So at that point I decided the next time he came in I would talk to him, no matter what. Every day I went to work and looked for him. I waited for him to come in... But he didn't. A few weeks later I was pulled in to the office by one of the waitresses. She said "I wanted to let you know that your father passed away. I know you didn't know him, but I did, we were close. And I'm sorry!"
That was December of 2002. And I have to say, it's still hard to think about. It breaks my heart to think that I will never know him. I will never know what he knew of me. I will never know what he was like, was he a fan of jazz, was he a lover of the winter or the spring, was he an animal lover? I'll never know any of that... But worst of all I'll never know if he cared. I'll never know if he loved me... And I feel as if it's MY FAULT... All I had to do, was speak up sooner!