I recently saw an article bashing the new movie based on an interaction between a journalist and Mr. Rogers. (Spoilers — sort of but not really because it’s based on a true story.)
I saw this movie on Thanksgiving day after what felt like a million years of waiting. Billy and I got tickets to the first screening of the day and braved the windy Chicago weather to walk a few blocks to the theater.
My favorite part about seeing movies at this theater is the walk back home where we discuss all of our likes and dislikes if applicable. I gushed about Bohemian Rhapsody last year at this time as we rounded the corner and passed Target. Billy’s favorite memory (that he thinks about every single time we pass the Target) is me tearing The Last Jedi a new one after he said “I liked it but wouldn’t be surprised if you told me you didn’t.”
This time was no different. We passed through by the shops as I glanced in windows at sparkly dresses I’d never wear and discussed the movie. We both agreed that it was good but would understand if someone was disappointed about the lack of Mr. Rogers and that “feel-good” presence he left us with as kids. But still, we enjoyed it.
So this article came as a shock when someone mentioned it’s terrible for people that have ever dealt with a toxic parent/partner/etc. because we shouldn’t feel like we have to forgive that person. I’ll admit, the ending made me a little sad. My relationship with my dad is not great. And nonexistent.
My dad left while I was just a baby and my mom was pregnant with my sister. He wasn’t a great guy and had a problem with drugs and being faithful. My mom kept him away from me and my sister, even gave my sister a different last name after she married my brother’s dad. It wasn’t until I was seven that I “reconnected” with my dad and that side of my family. After that day I realized I was a spitting image of him with my thick almost black curly hair (because my mom had straight blonde hair). He made all these promises and bought me all the toys I wanted.
But that wouldn’t last. He got flaky and disappeared for a while. Resurfaced and promised to buy me a car and sign for a tattoo when I was 17. Then one night he left me stranded at a friends house after promising to pick me up at 9. Couldn’t get ahold of him but a roommate said he was pretty drunk and passed out. I swore I’d never speak to him again.
Around the time I got pregnant with Hayden he resurfaced and would call me to discuss himself and what was wrong with him. He called me on Father’s Day because my birthday was the day before. I was still in touch with his sister and decided to visit after I gave birth. To my surprise my dad opened the door and scooped up my newborn son. I was furious and felt betrayed. So I cut that side off until 2018 when my aunt sent me a friend request. I was cautious with her but then she passed away in December of last year.
I went to her visitation, reluctantly. I had to have my other aunt (on my mom’s side) drive because I was trying not to throw up from my anxiety — in fear that my dad would be there. He wasn’t. It was there that I found out he’s in a nursing home with dementia. He probably doesn’t even remember who I am.
I say all this because the movie pushes forgiveness, for even the most toxic people in your life. Forgiveness before it’s too late.
I root for forgiveness often and I’m happy when people are able to rebuild relationships with estranged family/friends and the like. I’ve been able to forgive a few people that have really hurt me. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t forgive my dad.
I thought about that after the movie and wondered if I should. I sat down at the table with my in-laws for Thanksgiving and continued to think about it. I even went to bed that night wondering if I should. But why should I? That was what I kept coming back to. Why should I? He left. He continued to let me down as I tried to build a relationship with him. The man that gave me my curly hair and my Borderline Personality Disorder. Why should I allow myself to get hurt all over again? Especially if there is a chance he won’t even know who I am when I walk in that nursing home. It will only hurt me more.
But did I hate that movie for making me think that way? Absolutely not. It made me think and eventually come to a decision. A choice. It didn’t force a Hollywood ending of forgiveness and a happy life. I know not all endings are happy and I know I won’t forgive my dad for the hurt he caused. And that’s perfectly fine.
So go see the movie. Or don’t. I don’t really care. It was great and it helped me remember all the good Mr. Rogers brought to the world. How much that man cared about everyone and how special he made me, an impressionable and sad kid (that had been through so much already in her short time on earth) feel through a TV screen.
I’ll also remind you that you don’t have to forgive everyone that hurt you, but I’ll be rooting for you no matter what.
Be kind out there. 💜