In the past few posts, I’ve been really giving some love to my Mother, seeing as I have a lot more memories of her, and she’s like my best friend. But, after this Friday’s blog post(which can be found here: https://rookswriter.wordpress.com/2013/03/23/where-does-this-ouchie-fly/ ), my Dad told me I really never talked about him in my posts, and he’s right. I haven’t. This isn’t his fault, and actually, this is somewhat a mirror of the position fathers sometimes have to place themselves in. The fact that since they culturally are pressured to make the most income in the household, they have less time for the kids.
So this is an ode to you Dad. Culturally, you’ve been placed in a position where my memories contain less times with you, even when this was not even under your control.
My Dad is a wonderful, just brilliant man who has always been there for me, whether or not he was physically by my side. He is the one who gives me my practical advice; he is always there in terms of talking about my faith. Though we’ve had quite a few awkward car rides, in the end, we love to snuggle up during a movie and just enjoy ourselves. I love my Dad, but unfortunately, I don’t always know him very well.
But do we always need to know everything about someone to love them? I certainly don’t. I’m actually quite clumsy when it comes to relationships that are past shallow friendship. This isn’t to say all of my relationships are shallow. But sometimes, with people I consider friends, I only seem to talk to them when I pass them on the road. And that isn’t really proficient time to actually find out about someone. We all know when we’re short on time, and someone asks us how we’re doing, we just say “fine” to be able to get on our way, right? But, I still call them my friends, no matter how little time we seem to spend. It’s a funny concept, but I think I know the reason why I still call them friends: it’s because there has been enough time between us where I know I like the other person. That’s all I need sometimes.
I’ve lived with my Dad my whole life, and I still don’t understand some of his past, and I may never understand all of it. We may not be the best conversationalists, but the times I spend with him, I treasure. I love to be able to hug him, kiss him on his cheek, though the stubble on his chin hurt my lips. I can only smile when I find him asleep on the couch while a movie is playing on the screen. I feel pride to know that he has worked every day, though he sometimes has had monotonous, exhausting days, he still did it for me and my brothers. Though he didn’t spend as much time with me as my mom did, he worked hard, and that was how he showed his love.
So, give a hug to your father if you can. They’re working hard for you, even if maybe, they’re not around the house quite as much.
See you Wednesday!