Forgiveness by Lena Fein

The journey to wholeness is priceless. It’s rarely instantaneous, and the path is often long and filled with obstacles. I was well into my adult years when I discovered that the key to unlock the door to wholeness is forgiveness.

I was raised in a madhouse, with my mother obsessively cleaning – polishing her porcelain dolls with vigor, vacuuming our house up and down the hallways, underneath the beds and furniture at least once a day and sometimes twice, dusting relentlessly taking care not to miss a speck. Our mother did all this cleaning while leaving her four young daughters alone to play. It’s no surprise that my sisters and I had frequent accidents. I still remember my visceral terror at age two-and-a-half when I was hurled toward a window by my four-year-old sister because I didn’t give her my wooden block. My nose was severed by the shattered glass and reattached in the emergency room. 

What hurt me more than the pain of a severed nose was my mother’s cruel words. In first grade, I felt despair when she told me dance lessons would be wasted on me because I was such a klutz. And that my singing was awful and out of tune. Worst of all, when I was in second grade, my mother discovered my diary hidden under my bed. In front of my father and three sisters she read my first entry out loud. She shamed me for my tender words about my crush on a boy in my class. I ran to my room, tears flooding my pillow as I cried in pain and shame. I didn’t realize it then, but that is when I created an armor around my heart, locking away my diary, my words, my true feelings.

I swallowed the key. 

I puffed myself up by being smart in school. Getting straight A’s. Not just achieving but over-achieving. Completing a master’s degree in engineering at a top college. Having a successful career. Two marriages. Two children. Checking items off my task list. Done. Done. Done. A+. More money in the bank.

Then, the day that changed everything. 

I had just turned 51 years-old, and my father called me with the news that my mother had been diagnosed with stage-4 lung cancer. She started chemo immediately. 

She didn’t make it through the second week. Mom was weak and intubated in the hospital. As I stood at her dying bedside, I lightly touched her hand. My mother opened her eyes and stared right at me, a smile on her cracked lips. Instead of their normal dark brown, her eyes glowed with light. Instead of running, I allowed myself to stare into her eyes. I felt my heart soften; years of hard shell started to crack and melt away.

Forgiveness gently seeped into my tender, yearning heart. 

My mother died the next day with my father and me and my sisters at her side.

Slowly, feelings that I had long buried started creeping in. I noticed blooming flowers as if for the first time. I caught myself enraptured by the grace of moving clouds. The brilliance of sunsets. Crying at movies. Smiling at strangers. Having deep conversations with close friends. Taking deeper breaths

It wasn’t all at once, but the armor around my heart was melting away.

Forgiveness. It was the key to my heart. I hadn’t realized I had swallowed that key as a young child. I had run ahead of my heart, not trusting love. Not trusting myself. Chasing success to compensate.

Suddenly, my thirty-plus years as an engineer at a successful technology company didn’t fill the deepest yearnings of my heart. I left my job and steady paycheck.

I started hosting events in my home that embraced the arts – writing, painting, dancing, singing.  I formed a non-profit that supported education and health projects for at-risk communities around the world.  

I practiced leading with my heart, instead of my head. Slowly I learned to connect authentically with others. With myself.  Staying In the moment with full presence. Learning to be a blessing in each moment, instead of a curse.

It was a relief to let go of all those math equations running in my head. Instead, with a courage I didn’t know I had, I put my story on the page, reclaiming my buried diary of so many years ago. 

I am so grateful I found the key to my heart. It’s never too late.

Forgiveness. Wholeness.

I am here.

About the Author

Lena Fein is an author, retired engineer, and philanthropist based in San Francisco. A graduate of Engineering at UC Berkeley, Lena spent decades as Vice President of Sales and Marketing at a successful high tech company. When Lena was fifty-one, her mother died which propelled Lena on a path of healing from childhood abuse and trauma. Her debut memoir, Shattering the Mirror, explores her transformative journey to wholeness. Lena believes it is never too late to reclaim your freedom and truth. Now in her late sixties, Lena can often be found taking long walks by the San Francisco Bay and hugging her grandchildren.