Healing Through Pages: Mitch Albom and the Power of Forgiveness
How Tuesdays with Morrie Helped Me Reconcile with My Father
Grief has a peculiar way of lingering in the quiet spaces of our hearts, waiting for us to face it. For years, I buried mine under the pretense of resilience, convinced that if I avoided the pain, it would lose its power.
It didn’t.
This story was written with the assistance of an AI writing program.
The story begins with my father — a man of paradoxes. A charismatic storyteller but an absent listener, a provider but never emotionally present. Growing up, I oscillated between admiration and resentment, trying to reconcile the father I had with the one I wished for.
Our relationship was complicated, and when he passed, I was left with unfinished business.
A Quiet Catalyst
I stumbled upon Mitch Albom’s Tuesdays with Morrie while wandering aimlessly through a secondhand bookstore. I had no intention of confronting my grief that day, but the universe had other plans.
The book tells the story of Morrie Schwartz, a retired professor dying from ALS, and Mitch, his former student. Their weekly meetings evolve into life lessons that explore love, regret, forgiveness, and mortality.
One line stood out to me:
“Forgive yourself before you die. Then forgive others.”
That sentence hit me like a thunderbolt. I had spent years holding onto anger — toward my father for his shortcomings and myself for not being the daughter he might have needed.
Lessons in Forgiveness
My father was far from perfect. He made decisions that left scars — on me, on my family, and perhaps even on himself. Yet, reading Albom’s conversations with Morrie, I began to see a pattern: forgiveness wasn’t just for the person who had wronged you. It was for yourself, to unburden your heart.
Albom wrote:
“Love always wins.”
I wondered if that love still lingered despite the hurt. Was my resentment masking the deep affection I never fully expressed?
Rediscovering My Father
The memories I had buried started to resurface, tender moments hidden beneath layers of pain. I remembered the way he would leave small, handwritten notes in my school lunchbox — jokes, riddles, or just a simple “Good luck today.”
I recalled the nights he sat by my bedside, humming lullabies in his slightly off-key voice.
These weren’t grand gestures, but they were his way of saying, “I love you.”
Facing the Silence
For years after his death, I avoided his memory. His favorite music was banned from my playlists; his chair at the dining table felt like a ghostly reminder of his absence. I thought ignoring the pain would make it disappear.
But Tuesdays with Morrie forced me to sit with that silence. It whispered truths I had been too afraid to acknowledge: that it’s okay to grieve someone who hurt you. That forgiveness is not an absolution of their mistakes but an acceptance of their humanity.
Moving Forward
On what would have been his 60th birthday, I wrote him a letter. It was raw, messy, and filled with confessions I never had the courage to say while he was alive. I told him about my life, my struggles, and my victories. I told him I forgave him and that I hoped he had forgiven me too.
In the process, I realized that forgiveness didn’t erase the pain, but it made space for healing.
The Takeaway
Mitch Albom’s Tuesdays with Morrie taught me that grief is not linear. It’s a journey of remembering, forgiving, and finding meaning in the loss. It’s about turning pain into wisdom and resentment into love.
To anyone carrying the weight of unresolved emotions, I offer this:
Don’t wait for closure from others. Sometimes, it starts within.
Grief doesn’t define us, but the way we heal from it does.
And healing, I’ve learned, is the ultimate act of love.
