by Pelka Evdenić Kuzelka

Forgive me for being afraid of you first.

Forgive me for ignoring you later.

Forgive me for considering you crazy.

Forgive me for running away from everything that reminded me of you.

Forgive me for feeling ashamed of you so many times.

Forgive me for making fun of you when I got older.

Forgive me for not respecting you.

Forgive me for not considering your Being.

Forgive me for leaving so that I would no longer be under your influence.

Forgive me for counting my good memories of you on one hand.

Forgive me for all the bad memories.

Forgive me for not teaching my children your language, so that they could not understand you.

Forgive me for having avoided thinking about you.

Forgive me for judging you.

Forgive me for considering you guilty of not loving me, when you did not love yourself.

Forgive me for never considering that I chose you in this life as my Master and that you were only fulfilling the agreement between our souls. Forgive me for not understanding that, at Christmas, when you saw the illusion in my eyes to play with the real Santa Claus… you didn’t want to lie to me, simply… That your love for the truth was greater and for this, you told me: “If you want to go out, you can go… but Santa Claus doesn’t exist, this is just a work colleague in disguise…” That a four-year-old girl stays curled up on the seat, smaller than she got there, remained, certainly, unnoticed. 

I am at peace with all this, from the depths of my soul.

Thank you for having these qualities which, since I inherited them from you, I didn’t even want to see, because I didn’t want to look like you under any circumstances.

Thank you because, at last, I am crying for you. 

Thank you for having loved the truth so much.

Thank you for having fought so hard for your ideals.

Thank you for always saying them, using your voice from the womb.

Thank you for being so organized.

Thank you for having been very disciplined.

Thank you for always being punctual.

Thank you for liking to take care of yourself.

Thank you for having a good memory.

Thank you for taking care of the grammar rules.

Thank you for your ability to remember numbers and to play with them.

Thank you for giving my children love in silence, when we visited you.

Thank you because they have only good memories of you.

Thank you for writing poetry your whole life.


Thank you for appearing now as one issue to solve. The truth is that I have been thinking for years that I have forgiven you and closed the subject with you, but you have just come to the forefront now when I am planning to be more disciplined. Suddenly, you appaired, in front of me, with the box of your gifts under your arm, my rejected inheritance… 3515 days since you left, 303,696,000 seconds to open the mental box where I kept you and to realize that, by denying everything about you, I was denying my own life and limiting myself to live this experience with a potential diminished by non-acceptance. 

Thus, I accept all my life lived and to be lived with gratitude and joy. Now I have the possibility to build my life using all these incredible tools in a new and different way because these tools are not to blame for the use they were given.

Thank you for making it so that this Christmas I will have the illusion of that little girl, before she was left without it, curled up in her armchair. Because, today, I choose to empty this cup of memories and answer you now: “Santa Claus may not exist as a person, but there is the idea of being kind to each other, of having an empathetic attitude towards the weakest, of genuinely rejoicing in the happiness of others and of not sticking to the inappropriate things that someone, in their ignorance, may have done to us”.

Thank you, Dad, for making me see all that. Love you.

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