As festive as the holiday season, it can be stressful for many. Amid the merriment, other emotions may be lurking. For those who have perfect relations with all of their family, I tip my hat to you.

Mine was not always so.

My biological father was a challenge for me. He epitomized the opposite of what a good father was. He drank to excess, was untrustworthy, and at times, abusive. Thankfully, he and my mother divorced while I was a teen. As a result, I could keep my distance, which was not difficult, considering he lived on his boat outside the country.

As a teen, I began my quest for self-fulfillment and happiness. Early on, it was apparent the ability to forgive was paramount to my success.

Forgiveness was a complex concept for me. Given his upbringing, I could understand why my father was the way he was. I could accept he was doing the best he could. No one grows up wanting to be a bad dad.

But I could not forgive the things he had done. I did not understand where forgiveness played into the equation or where it resided within me. It seemed redundant.

I was able to see him just before he passed. I knew deep inside that an opportunity presented itself where I could resolve the unresolved feelings I had carried around with me.

While meditating about the upcoming encounter, a light went on. I got it. The web of the interconnectedness of my life was crystal clear. To proceed forward, I needed to love myself 100%. Of course, I thought I did, but I realized I had lied to myself.

How could I love myself completely if I rejected half of my DNA? By dismissing my father, I was inadvertently leaving a part of myself.

I did not have to like who he was or what he did. However, his actions were not reflective of the choices I had made.

Our upbringing is out of our control; we must make it into what we want. Then, we can wallow in the perceived or real injustices or move on. I had moved on. Yet, there was another step to take.

I chose to experience my last hours with him, unbiased from our past encounters, observing who he was without my judgments, resentment, and hurts. As evidenced by his friends who loved and respected him, no one is all-bad. His humor and curiosity for adventure were at the forefront of his personality. But, unfortunately, he was just ill-equipped to be a father.

I no longer expected anything from him. I did not need his acceptance, his support, or validation. I needed nothing, so with clear eyes, I could see who he was as a human. Like all humans, he was flawed, but it no longer mattered to me. At the end of his life, he dealt with his physical and spiritual pain, wanting to make amends for his past actions.

No words needed to be spoken, for we both understood. Perhaps when I was young, having no contact with him, the feelings of anger bonded me to him; they were better than no connection at all. But now, I understood that forgiving him in my heart was as much a release for him as it was for me.

Without forgiveness, we hold ourselves, hostage to a past that cannot be reversed.

He passed within a few short days after I had returned home. In his final hours, the phone was held to his ear; with an open heart, I could say fare thee well. And with his departure, I became whole.

We all have our own original stories. It may involve family or friends. Finding the key to forgiveness is an individual journey. The important part is to take the step. To start the trip, be open to the possibilities. Forgiveness gave me my wings to fly. Forgiveness is the ultimate let-go.