Why is it that parents can be as cruel, mean, inconsiderate as they want but children cannot?
My father, he is a stubborn man. He believes all he says and does is right and everyone else (being his wife and children) are wrong. I have not gotten along with him for as many years as I can remember. Yet, I am always the one who feels his pain.
He thinks of me as one of his enemies; yet he praises me in front of everyone he knows. To my face, I am a disgrace, to other’s I am his honor. So, why is it so hard to tell me that he is proud of me?
When I was growing up, life was not easy. Having an older brother and sister meant that the examples they set would affect me strongly. My brother – finished high school and went to college. My father happily paid for his tuition fees. But then my brother switched careers, once, twice, three times too many. Then my sister started college, start career, switch career, start career, switch career. With all the starting and switching my dad got a little fed up. So, when it was my turn, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do and he wasn’t all too willing to help out. Although, both of us knew he would!
Any who, as I was growing up I became more and more independent. I didn’t appreciate being told how to live my life. I know our parents are our guardians and counsellors but that does not mean that we are obligated to do everything they say.
My father didn’t appreciate this thought of mine. He was a dominant man, like most Indian men are. But I will not be dominated. Not unless of my will. I rebelled, I dared and I succeeded. He didn’t and probably until this day doesn’t understand the “need” I had to be independent.
Today, I have a job with a good-reputable employer, I have my vehicle, I have 2 cats, I have my apartment. I am independent. I do not need to be fed, clothe, or taken care of by my parents. I am a strong woman who has seen many ups and downs in her life. I am 27 physically, however my mental status is about 35+. I am no longer the child. I am the care taker.
However, my father does not understand that. He does not understand that it is his time to step down; that it’s his children’s time to care for him and nurture him. My father is 65 years old. He should have retired by now. Sadly though, he cannot.
My brother – 7 years older than me – does not work. He lives with my parents with his two children (the third one on the way) and wife. He does not pay rent, he does barely pays for anything else in the house. His wife earns, however, they do not pay much towards the expenses.
My sister – 1.5 years older than me – is married in India and has a 2-year-old son. She is living her life as she can. However, her marriage cost my father to take out another mortgage on the house. Just when his first mortgage was paid off, my sister decided she wanted the most lavishing wedding anyone in our family has ever seen.
Today, my father is old. He is tired. But he is stubborn. He does not pay attention to doctors saying he needs a break. He does not consider his health and still works 16-18 hours a day. He WON’T let me take care of him.
My parent’s culture
The cultural upbringing of my parents indicates that parents are only to be dependent on their son. That even drinking a glass of water at their daughter’s house is like being in debt to her for 7 lives. It displays that a daughter is not her parent’s strength but their weakness.
For the longest time, the above post has nagged at me every time I log into my dashboard. It’s telling me to tell my story, to write about my parents. And finally today, with a hint of sympathy and love I am going to finish this post.
I know, above I’ve written a bunch of thoughts when I was angry. At the time of writing it, my emotions would’ve probably played a huge role. And today, again, my emotions will play another huge role. Because today with a hint of confidence, I want to say that I’ve begun to understand my father.
You see, my father and I are two extremely different people. Our way of life, our thinking, our mentality and the way we do things is quite different. We are a clash and because of this clash, neither one of us has taken the time to get to know the other. UNTIL TODAY! Today, with a very small hint of confidence, I want to say that I’ve gotten to know my father, I’ve begun understanding him. Now don’t get me wrong: I don’t agree with the things he does, says or the way he thinks. But I understand. In his opinion, he is just trying to do the “right thing”. Yes, I know I’ve put the right thing into quotations, the only reason why is because each of us has a our own belief and understanding of what’s right and wrong.
To sacrifice yourself even an ounce is like slitting your wrist and watching the blood drain from your body. To do it over and over again, is like taking all existence and pushing it to one side while you stand on the opposite. I won’t say my father is a Saint. I won’t even say he completely deserves the respect, empathy and love I have in my heart for him at this very moment. But what I will say is that with all his wrong-doings, with all the negligence and with all the pain he has suffered and has caused: he is still a good man. He is still a respectful man. He is still a man who I love and could NEVER forget.
Oh dear, I’ve got little drops of regret, sadness and love falling from my eyes. I better stop now.
All I will say is, as you can see the initial stuff I wrote had a different aspect of emotions tied to it and the stuff I just wrote now has another. Just remember, we fight them, we hate them, we love them, we disrespect them, but at the end of the day they are still our parents. They may not be the best ones out there, but they are your parents.
I resent a lot from my past. If I could, there is more than a hundred things I’d do over. But the one thing I cannot resent are my parents. Yes, they’ve had many faults but so will we, when we are parents. They did the best they could and so will we, when it is our time. But all in all, I DO NOT RESENT THEM. I do not wish I had different parents. And I will always love them.
That is all.